Chapter Text

Prologue

It was difficult to remember the time before. Before her power awakened. Before everything had gone disastrously wrong. Before destruction and death fell upon the land. Before she gave the land a temporary stay of execution. Before the Calamity.

Some days, she could remember. She could remember green hills and lush forests. She could remember a black-stone castle with spires reaching for the heavens, and small villages full of hard-working people. She could remember a beautiful, shimmering city resting upon pillars above the source of a great river, and she could remember homes built out of stone surrounded by streams of lava. She remembered a great desert and snow-capped mountains. She remembered dawns and dusks, scorching days, and bitterly cold nights. She remembered anger. Affection. Fear. Hope. Desperation. Hate. Love. She remembered her life as it had been before the Calamity.

Other days—when she could even think in terms of days and nights at all—she remembered very little. Emotionless. Thoughtless. Bodiless. She fought against a force that was both far smaller and far greater than she. She did not live, but she did not die. She existed somewhere in between. Her mind and soul ripped to shreds by the Calamity.

And yet, she fought. Even when all self was seemingly gone; even when hope was but a distant memory, and the darkness was all around, she fought. Every day, month, year, she grew weaker. Deep within her, in the place where she still remembered who she was and what she fought, she knew that she would eventually fail. She would fall. But until then, she would fight the Calamity.

One hundred years. A lifetime for some. A fraction of a lifetime for others. The awareness of time blossomed into her broken mind as the sun slowly rose over the slopes of smoking Death Mountain. The winter had passed, giving way to spring and new life. As the sun rose, she felt more aware of her shattered mind than most days. She pulled the pieces back together, shred by tattered shred. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she saw her land. The land, as it was following the Calamity.

Broken, yet alive. Much like her, she supposed. Deer grazed near the dilapidated skeletons of buildings. Creatures of darkness gathered around cook fires, dancing and singing in their guttural languages. Cuccos crowed with the dawn in distant villages. In a broken coliseum, an angry lynel roared a warning to those that would approach. She saw all of this at once and knew why. She saw it and knew her enemy saw these things as well, so closely tied they were. As her awareness of time and space grew, so too did such things grow in the Calamity.

But she saw something that the Calamity did not.

Far away, on a distant plateau, a man stirred within a chamber deep within a mountain. She saw this, and she remembered. She remembered her life before the Calamity. She remembered who she was. She remembered why she fought. Most of all, she remembered the man named Link.

Chapter Text

PART ONE

Chapter One

“Open your eyes...”

The voice pierced the black like a golden arrow. Where before there had been nothing but darkness and silence, suddenly there was light. Sound. Awareness.

“Open your eyes...”

Slowly, he obeyed the voice. The darkness gave way to a soft, blurry, blue light.

“Open your eyes.”

The light coalesced. Focused. He saw. What he saw, he was not sure, but he saw… something. A dome of strange metal and blue lights. Unfamiliar. Foreign.

“Wake up, Link.”

There was more than a dome. He was on his back, lying in a pool of softly glowing blue liquid. His back rested on a hard surface, leaving his face above the surface of the fluid. The strangely ethereal liquid began to drain, drawing away from his body and leaving him feeling chilled.

His eyes moved slowly at first, taking in the glowing dome, and then the larger chamber he was in. The ceiling and walls were some kind of stone or metal. They weren’t smooth. Instead, they were covered with swirling patterns. Ripples and wrinkles in the walls that formed circular shapes and strangely maze-like designs. Small lights interspersed around the chamber on the walls emanated a soft, orange light. They looked like stars in the night sky.

Slowly, he sat up, but as he did so, his body protested. He felt stiff. Heavy. He looked down at himself and absently noted that his body was unclothed. He was naked. He considered this, frowning. Why was he naked? He should be wearing clothes, shouldn’t he? His thoughts came sluggishly.

He swung his legs over the lip of the now-empty basin he had been lying in and eased himself out. Again, his body protested, as if it was not used to such simple acts as moving. Perhaps it wasn’t. Why was he in here? What was this place?

His feet touched the ground. Stone. Cold. His feet felt tender. Soft. He eased himself up to stand, and his spine popped and crackled audibly as he straightened. Once upright, he took better stock of himself. Two arms, two legs. Thin, yet muscular. He reached up, feeling at his head. Long hair fell down around his shoulders. He grabbed a lock of it and brought it to his face. Dirty blonde. All as it should be… right?

He released his hair and looked around again, narrowing his eyes. He did not immediately see an exit out of the round chamber with its strangely patterned walls. He did, however, see a small pedestal that glowed with a light similar to that of the pool he had been lying in. He walked toward this pedestal and, as he approached, he found that its surface was covered with patterns similar to those on the walls; they glowed blue, rather than orange.

There was a small recess in the center of the pedestal, and he frowned at what looked like a small, rectangular object within it. Seeing no other option, he reached out to touch it, but before his fingers could brush its surface, the lights on the pedestal flashed, and it made a sound like stone grinding against stone. He stepped back, startled, as an inner ring in the pedestal rose up several finger-widths, and the strange rectangular object suddenly stood up on its end. It was illuminated by the pedestal now, and he could see what looked like a stylized eye on its surface. The iris glowed a brilliant blue, while three pointed eyelashes glowed orange above it. Beneath the eye stretched a single teardrop. Additional lines of orange light glowed softly along its top and bottom edges.

“Take it,” a feminine voice said.

He released a hoarse cry and stumbled back, eyes wide, looking around for the woman that had spoken. He couldn’t see anyone else in the chamber with him, but his eyes fell on the strange pool he had been lying in. Perhaps the woman who had spoken hid behind it? He slowed his breathing and slowly crept around the outside of the room, looking for any sign of movement.

“Link, I am not with you, at the moment,” said the voice. This time, he detected something new from it. It sounded distant and did not appear to originate from behind the pool.

He continued around the room regardless. Only once he had completed his circumference around the room did he respond. “Where—” His voice came out as a rasp, and he cleared his throat. “Where are you?”

“I am speaking to your mind from far away,” she said. He frowned. The voice didn’t just sound distant. It sounded… He tentatively plugged his ears with his fingers, trying to block out the sound of the voice. When she spoke again, her tone betrayed amusement. “I am communicating with you mentally. That… will, most certainly, not help.”

He lowered his hands and opened his mouth to respond, but she spoke again. “I will explain more soon, I promise. As much as I can. But for now, take the object upon the pedestal. It is called the Sheikah Slate, and I believe it will help you.”

He looked around once more for the voice, but now that he was listening for it, he was aware that he was not hearing it. At least, not with his ears. Somehow, he could hear the woman in his mind. His eyes fell back on the object—the Sheikah Slate, as she had called it—and, after a moment’s consideration, he reached out and picked it up. Frowning down at it, he turned it over in his hands, surprised to find the back side of it to be smooth and black, like polished stone.

A new sound filled the chamber now, and he looked up quickly for its source. He found it a moment later as his eyes fell on the wall near him. The orange light from the room illuminated what he had originally thought to be just another swirl in the wall’s pattern, but now he saw to be an archway. At least, now it was an archway. As he watched, the section of wall that had previously occupied the center of the arch now rose into the stone above it. It rumbled loudly as it rose until it stopped with a reverberating thud. Where there had been solid wall before, now a simple arch opened into another, smaller chamber.

He approached the arch carefully, looking around in wonder. He touched the stone, finding it to be simple and solid. There was no sign that a wall even existed here before… Before he could voice his wonder, however, he heard the woman speak again.

“I cannot tell you how… happy I am to see you again, Link.”

See?

At once, his nakedness seemed much more pressing. He straightened his back and looked around a final time, looking for the source of the voice. The woman that seemed able to both see and speak to him without being physically present. From within his mind, he heard what might have been a chuckle, and he grew aware that he had instinctively covered up his nakedness with the Sheikah Slate. Feeling his face warm with a blush, he looked around the new room and was delighted to see what appeared to be a bundle of clothes draped over a similar pedestal in this room, this one glowing orange.

Not caring where they came from or who left them there, he quickly crossed over and grabbed the clothes, setting the Sheikah Slate down on the pedestal. A shirt and trousers. He quickly donned these, trousers first, and was pleased to find that they fit him well enough, if a little loosely around the waist. The trousers came with a simple rope belt, however, which he cinched up.

As he pulled his head through the neck of the shirt, he was surprised to see that the pedestal’s lights had turned blue. The Sheikah Slate had changed, as well. The smooth black surface, which he had assumed to be a kind of stone, now showed a glowing blue eye in its center, similar to the eye on its opposite side. He pulled his arms through the sleeves of the shirt and reached out, taking the Slate. The pedestal flashed briefly and another doorway, this one in the wall opposite the door he’d entered from, began to open. A shaft of bright light streamed in from under the door as it lifted.

As the door rose, he glanced back down at the Sheikah Slate, surprised to see blue text written across the smooth black surface. It read, “Sheikah Slate confirmed.” The text remained for another few moments before disappearing.

He placed the Sheikah Slate back down on the pedestal, watching it carefully for a moment before he bent down and placed his feet into the boots that he’d only just seen. They fit surprisingly well. His boots in place, he grabbed the Sheikah Slate again and approached the now-open doorway. He felt a stab of excitement as he saw the mouth of the cave some distance down what appeared to be a simple passage with rock walls.

He broke into a run. He splashed through a shallow puddle, but he didn’t care about the water that soaked through his pantlegs. He didn’t know why he’d woken up in that chamber. He couldn’t remember where he was. He couldn’t remember what had led to his falling asleep in such a location. He couldn’t remember…

He couldn’t remember anything.

He stopped short, eyes growing wide in alarm. He looked around, looking for anything recognizable, as his heart raced in his chest and breaths came in short, rapid bursts. In front of him, he could see the brilliant light of day streaming in through the cave entrance, too bright to make out any details beyond the faint outline of vegetation. Behind him, the mysterious chamber remained open and dim.

Where was he? Why was he here?

Who was he?

“Link.” The voice. The woman. She had called him that before. Was that his name? He whirled once again, hoping that he would see her this time. She continued in her gentle voice. “I know you must have many questions, and I promise that answers will come in time.” She sounded more distant now. Strained. “I have arranged for a guide to help you get started. Please, you must keep going.”

Stillness filled the cavern as the woman’s voice faded. He finally found his voice again, speaking rapidly. “I… hello?” he called. “Please, are you there? Where am I? I don’t—I don’t remember!” Silence. He continued. “You said Link! Is that my name? What’s happening?” But she did not respond, despite his pleas. She had left him, it would seem.

He—Link, she had called him—closed his eyes tightly, shutting out the light streaming into the cave. He couldn’t remember anything. Not his name, nor where he came from, nor where he was or how he came to be there. How could that be? He remained still for several minutes as he strained against the hole in his mind where he felt his memories should be. Finally, he latched upon the last thing the voice had said. A guide. He had to find the guide.

Link’s eyes shot open and he took a step forward, and then another. He entered the light streaming in from the cave’s entrance and lifted his hand to shield his eyes, blinking rapidly as they adjusted. As the light grew less oppressive, he found himself at the foot of a grassy hill. His eyes followed the hill as it rose until it terminated in what appeared to be a cliff. Beyond that…

His eyes widened, and he broke into another run, climbing the hill and reaching its zenith. His breath caught as a lump of emotion lodged in his throat. Before him stretched majesty. The land before him was lush and green, with forests and plains as far as the eye could see. Distant in the west were a series of brown plateaus, and north from there, a mountain range covered in snow and ice. To the northeast, hazy in the distance, a massive-looking volcano stood, magma forming jagged red-orange lines down its sides. A verdant expanse of grass, hills, and bodies of water lay between it all, surrounded on all sides by mountains and ridges. Directly north, across the field, stood a solitary castle, with a central spire rising above several others.

Birds flew overhead, their small shadows passing over Link as they chirped merrily in the warm sun. A breeze blew past him, bringing the fresh scents of grass, trees, and flowers. The grass under his feet was cool and wet, sparkling with dew.

As he took in the view before him, he became aware that his immediate surroundings were not level with the remaining world around him. At the bottom of the rocky cliff he stood on, a large forest stretched out until it terminated at another abrupt cliff. It was difficult to tell from his vantage, but it appeared that he was on a very large plateau, topped with fields and forests that didn’t seem all that different than the others he saw further away.

He gazed around at his more immediate surroundings. Behind him was the cave he’d awoken in, nestled into the base of yet another sheer cliff face. To his right—the east—he spotted a large stone structure. It appeared to be a kind of religious temple, set upon the top of another hill, with a single steeple placed at the front of a large, otherwise rectangular building.

He stared at this building with a hope of finding something—anything—familiar about it. It was an old structure. Green vines grew up along its grey stone walls, and the wooden roof was faded and broken in places. Before the temple stood the ruins of some old buildings. Whether they were houses or additional places of worship, he couldn’t tell. Should he have recognized this temple? Was this his land? Or did he struggle to recognize anything because he was far from home?

After a minute of studying the dilapidated temple, he decided that he had no choice but to start there. He began down the hill and towards the distant structure. As he walked, he passed a grove of trees in the shadow of the cliff. His presence disturbed a rabbit that had been among the trees, and it rushed into the cover of a bush. He eyed the bush for a time and found himself wondering if he would need to hunt for sustenance while on this plateau. He placed a hand against his stomach; he was hungry.

Seeking to distract himself from the sudden onslaught of hunger pangs, he lifted the Sheikah Slate to his face, frowning at the somewhat bulky device. He turned it over in his hands and determined that the smooth, black surface with the glowing blue eye was likely the front of the device. However, he could not tell exactly what it was supposed to do.

He recalled that writing had briefly appeared on it earlier, but he had no clues as to what that meant. Now, however, it seemed to do nothing. He did manage to find a hook on one end of it that could attach it to his belt, freeing up both of his hands. Grateful for that, he looked up as he passed under an overhang, squinting at the white clouds overhead.

That’s when he heard someone chuckling behind him.

Link whirled, muscles growing tense. His left hand closed into a fist, and he felt a sudden longing to have something with which to defend himself in that hand. Even a stick, like the simple tree branches on the ground that he had passed by, would be preferable to nothing. When his eyes fell on the source of the sound, however, he wasn’t certain if he should feel threatened or not.

On the ground, before a small cook fire, sat an older man in a heavy cloak. He was certainly a large man, with large arms and a bushy white beard extending halfway down his chest, and would tower over Link had he been standing. How had Link missed seeing him as he passed by? The old man’s blue-green eyes crinkled with mirth, which helped Link relax some.

“Why, hello and well met, stranger! It’s rather unusual to see another soul in these parts.” His voice was a deep baritone and seemed more refined than his roughshod appearance would have suggested. “What brings a young man such as yourself to a place such as this?” He looked Link up and down and raised his eyebrow at his old clothing and disheveled appearance. He looked back up at Link’s face. “And in such a state?”

Link hesitated, uncertain what he should say or do. Was this the guide that the woman had promised? If so, he had a strange way of showing it. On the other hand, perhaps he was just an old man that lived here. Regardless, maybe he could help.

“I…” His voice was still hoarse, as if it had been long without use, so Link cleared his throat again and licked his lips before continuing. “Where am I? What is this place? Who are you?” He barely stopped himself from asking, Who am I?

The old man raised an eyebrow. “We are currently upon the Great Plateau, at the center of Hyrule. In fact, according to legend, the kingdom of Hyrule was born upon this plateau.” He stood with a groan, using a wooden staff to help himself up, and then made his way around the fire towards Link. Link stepped back, warily, but the man merely gave him a curious look. The man stopped just out from under the overhang of rock. He motioned towards the temple and the ruins surrounding it.

“That temple was once called the Temple of Time. Long ago, it was the center of worship for the land. However, when the kingdom…” He paused, considering his words, and his expression changed, growing crestfallen. “Ever since the decline of the kingdom, it has been abandoned. Forgotten.”

Link looked back towards the Temple of Time, frowning. Hyrule. Temple of Time. The decline of the kingdom. None of these words or phrases meant anything to him. Even the name given him by the bodiless female voice was unfamiliar to him! He had no true knowledge if that was his real name or not. The old man must have seen something of Link’s mood, since he stepped closer and placed a large hand on Link’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you sit with me and tell me how you came to be here on this lonely plateau? I was just about to roast some apples on the fire. You are more than welcome to share in my meal.”

Link’s only response was another audible grumble from his stomach and a furtive look back towards the old man’s pack, from which several large, red apples were visible. The man chuckled and began back towards his spot by the fire. He followed.

It didn’t take long for Link to recount the events he could remember leading up to his meeting the old man. Though he kept the presence of the strange voice to himself, he explained that he had woken up in the strange chamber with no memory of who he was or how he got there, finding the Sheikah Slate and clothes waiting for him.

“You can remember nothing of what led you to that cave? You do not remember your past life at all?” There was a heaviness in the man’s voice as he poked at the fire with his stick. Link wasn’t sure, but he thought the old man sounded disappointed.

He looked down at the Sheikah Slate attached to his hip and pursed his lips. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t know who he was or how he came to be here. What did the man expect from him?

The two men fell into silence for a time, and the only sounds were that of the crackling fire and birds chirping in the trees. Finally, the old man sighed, nodding to himself.

“I do not have all of the answers that I am sure you are seeking. However, you are more than welcome to remain with me in my cabin for a few days while you try to piece things together. Perhaps after some rest, some of your memories will begin to come back.”

The man pushed himself back to his feet, grunting with exertion. Link looked up at him, prepared to respond to his offer, but stopped when the man motioned towards the Sheikah Slate with his staff. “However, I am curious about the device on your hip. From what you’ve described to me and looking at it, I believe that there is something else on this plateau that relates to that device in some way. I’ve never paid it much attention—such matters were always more my daughter’s interest than mine—but perhaps it may hold some significance for you.”

Link stood and looked down at the Sheikah Slate with some doubt. He did not know how this device was to help him but supposed that the voice had instructed him to take it. What could it hurt? He looked back at the man and nodded.

An odd expression flashed across the old man’s face. Satisfaction, perhaps, or amusement—Link wasn’t sure. He turned and reached over to the rock wall that they had sat next to, grasping a small wrapped bundle there that Link hadn’t noticed before. He held the bundle out to Link expectantly.

Link frowned at the bundle, taking it from the man. He carefully unwrapped it, revealing an old, worn down sword. The blade had long ago lost its luster. It was pitted in several places, and other spots had clear signs of rust. Link looked back at the man in confusion.

“Lately, the bokoblins have been growing more aggressive with their territory. I usually avoid them, and they are usually happy to stay away from my hut. Where we are going, however, is an area that I’ve spotted them in recently, and you look like you will be better at wielding that sword than I will be.”

And Link, as he gripped the sword’s worn leather hilt, found that he agreed with the old man. He started with the sword in his right hand, but it felt uncomfortable and awkward to him. Once he switched it over to his left, he immediately felt a sense of rightness. Stepping back from the old man, he grasped the sword in both hands and took a few practice swings. His movements weren’t quite fluid, yet this, at least, seemed familiar to him in a strange way.

After a few more practice swings and adjustments to his stance and grip, Link looked back to the old man and nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said.

The old man smiled in his kindly way and crouched to pick up the cloth that the sword had been wrapped in. Link felt sheepish for just abandoning the sword’s cover on the ground, but the man said nothing, simply holding it out to Link again.

“It’d be best to keep it covered until we need it. The bokoblins might avoid us if they don’t view us as a threat, but they are scavengers by nature. If they see a prize, such as an actual sword, they may decide to attack for that alone. Best not tempt them unless we have to.”

Link took the cloth and obediently wrapped the sword in the cloth. He had no way to wear the sword, so he simply held it by its hilt, placing the cloth-wrapped flat of the blade against his shoulder. The man watched him with a brief expression of amusement and then used his stick to break apart the small fire he’d built. After throwing some additional dirt on it to douse the flames, he turned back towards Link.

“Well, my boy, let’s get on our way. I have a feeling that you’ve got quite the journey ahead of you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

There were certain things that he still knew, Link reflected as he and the old man began down the hill towards the location the old man had spoken of. He still knew how to speak, for example. He certainly knew how to walk and perform basic functions. He understood what certain things were. As a bird flitted across their path, he understood that it was, in fact, a bird. He wasn’t sure of its kind, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to his memory loss or just a lack of knowledge of that particular species.

Other things seemed right to him. When the woman had referred to him as Link, it had initially felt unfamiliar. Yet, in his conversation with the old man, he had found that the name Link seemed to suit him. He wondered if that was more out of desperation for something to hang onto, rather than any real familiarity with the name.

However, when Link tried to remember any particular events from his past, he came up empty. He did not know what his surname was, if he even had one. He did not know from which land or province he came from, though the man remarked that his pointed ears—like the man’s own ears—likely marked him as a resident of Hyrule. Or, at least, he was a Hylian. Link just wished that term meant something to him.

As they made their way down the hill, the dirt path eventually gave way to a partially buried stone path. Glancing behind, Link could see that there were indications that the stone path had once stretched all the way up to the chamber he’d awoken in. He looked back at the man.

“I woke up in that chamber up the hill. You have no thoughts on why that was? Or what it is for?”

For a time, the old man did not respond and the only sound between them was the soft, rhythmic tapping of his staff on the cobblestones. Finally, he spoke. “This place is very old. The Temple of Time has stood for millennia, and some legends claim that this isn’t even its original site.” He looked at Link. “That Sheikah cave has likely been around for just as long, its purpose lost long ago.”

“But someone must know what it is and why I was in it,” Link said, gripping the hilt of the sword tightly through the cloth. “Is there anyone else that lives around here?”

 “Besides me?” The old man looked over his shoulder at Link, thick eyebrows raised. “No one. Not unless you count the bokoblins. I’m not even sure when or how they arrived, actually.”

“And you’ve not seen anyone else up here?” Link felt an increasing sense of irritation at the old man and more than a little suspicion.

“No one but you, young man,” the man replied. “Not for many years.”

“So why do you stay here?”

The old man fell silent for a time, his eyes drawn to the distant Temple of Time. “That’s neither here, nor there,” he said, finally. He turned back to Link and smiled solemnly. “I certainly do not think my story will be as interesting as yours.”

Link met his eyes and was surprised to see a glimpse of pain behind the blue-green eyes of the old man. Deep sorrow. There was something else that Link couldn’t place his finger on. “You never told me your name.”

The old man smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “No, I didn’t.”

As their eyes remained locked, Link opened his mouth to respond, to press him for the information that he was clearly hiding, but then he caught a glimpse of movement behind the old man’s back. In one fluid motion, Link stepped forward, grabbing the man by the arm and thrusting him back, behind him. With his other hand, he brought the wrapped sword up over his head, just in time to block an overhead blow by an ugly-looking club, wielded by an even uglier-looking creature.

The creature was faintly pig-like with a large snout, red skin, and beady blue eyes. It had large ears to either side of its head, a mouth with multiple sharp teeth, and a single, stubby horn on the top of its head. It was shorter than Link and looked malnourished, with visible ribs sowing on its torso. It only wore a loincloth, but the wooden club it wielded looked sturdy. Bokoblin, he suspected, based on what the old man had said.

He pushed the bokoblin back, causing it to stumble backward with an angry cry. Link took another step forward, swinging his covered sword at the creature’s head, but it scurried backward, screeching angrily at him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward, holding the sword in both hands.

The bokoblin suddenly lunged forward, swinging his club at Link’s side. Moving by instinct alone, he parried the blow, catching the club, and then swept his sword upwards. The maneuver broke the bokoblin’s grip, and the club was sent spiraling through the air. He gripped his sword with two hands and cleaved it to the side, catching the bokoblin square in the ribs. It folded around the cloth-wrapped blade and collapsed to the ground. Due to the wrapping, the blade didn’t cut the creature, though the place where the blade struck looked to already be turned an angry purple color.

The bokoblin scrambled to its feet, holding its side and backing away quickly, its other hand raised defensively. It began to yell at Link in an unknown, guttural tone, pointing its finger accusatorily. Link narrowed his eyes and took another step towards it.

“Link, no!” the old man yelled. Too late. Two more bokoblins—one red and another a dark, inky blue—burst out from behind a small broken wall just behind where the first bokoblin had fallen. The red one was wielding another club—this one longer and held with two hands—while the blue one had a sword. A much nicer looking sword than Link’s own.

The red bokoblin wielding the larger club swung it, and Link’s momentary surprise at seeing them prevented him from deflecting or dodging the blow. He managed to block it with his sword, but the force of it wrenched the sword painfully in his hands, and he stumbled back several steps.

The bokoblins had no intention of giving up their advantage. The red one broke into an awkward run. The club it held was large and heavy-looking for such a scrawny creature. Still, it was clear that the bokoblin was stronger than it must have looked, because it was difficult for Link to parry its heavy blows. He deflected the next one into the ground, but then the previous bokoblin, having recovered its club, rejoined the fight. He took a painful blow to his shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain and back away quickly. He backed down the hill, placing the three bokoblins above him. The blue bokoblin was, for the moment, content to wait for the other two to attack. Their leader, perhaps?

The bokoblin with the large club swept out towards Link’s feet, and he reacted again with instinct. Springing into a backflip, he easily leaped over the club, but landed unsteadily. This, at least, coupled with the looks of surprise on the two bokoblins’ faces, gave him enough time to remove the cloth from his sword.

The reactions from the twin bokoblins were immediate. The bokoblin with the shorter club immediately screeched something in excitement and rushed towards Link, swinging his club wildly. It clearly wanted Link’s sword. The other bokoblin did as well and, surprisingly, swept the legs out from under the other bokoblin with its longer club. It, too, then rushed him, actually running onto its fallen brethren’s back and leaping off of it. It yelled in its guttural tongue and tried to bring its heavier club down on Link’s head.

Link side-stepped and brought his sword up in a quick slice. As he drew his sword across the bokoblin’s exposed belly, he felt a brief moment of resistance, and then his blade was free. The bokoblin screeched and hit the ground with a bloody roll, its club clattering to the ground several feet away. It did not get back up again.

The other bokoblin did not take its fellow’s dispatch very well. Leaping to its feet, it ran at him, swinging its club furiously. Link parried the first blow and felt something in his sword give way. Firming his jaw, he dodged the next attack, leaping to the side. The bokoblin stumbled, having overcommitted in its swing, and Link thrust his sword into the bokoblin’s back. The bokoblin spluttered, purple blood spraying from its mouth, and dropped its club. Link pulled the sword free and kicked the bokoblin, sending it rolling down the hill to join its brother.

Breathing heavily, Link looked at his handiwork in some surprise. Two enemies felled. He glanced at the bloodied sword in his left hand. It gave him some pause to consider that he had been victorious in such odds. He glanced back at the old man, who still stood some ways off, watching him with keen eyes. Link had reacted so quickly, pulling him away from danger and placing himself between the man and the bokoblins. Perhaps, in his past—

The third bokoblin screamed in fury and thrust its sword towards Link’s back. Spinning, he managed to knock the initial blow aside, but it quickly became apparent that this bokoblin was more skilled in combat than its red-skinned brethren. It held its sword in one hand, and in its other hand, a roughly hewn wooden shield.

Great, he thought, as he swung his sword towards the blue bokoblin’s neck. The bokoblin lifted its shield, catching Link’s blade. With a sharp crack and an awful lurch, his sword snapped in two, just above the hilt. He stumbled forward and just barely threw himself to the side in time to avoid being run through by the eager bokoblin.

Link took several more steps back as the bokoblin advanced, a disgusting leer playing across its lips. Casting around for anything to defend himself with, he spotted the club that the initial bokoblin had been wielding. Glancing back at the blue bokoblin, he met its eyes briefly before breaking into a sprint. The creature yelled angrily and gave chase, but too slowly. Link snatched up the club and spun around just in time to block a swing that could have decapitated him.

He responded by swinging his club at the bokoblin’s head, but it managed to get its shield up just in time. He attempted to hit the bokoblin again but found the shield in his way once more. Before he could get a third attempt, he was forced to parry the bokoblin’s sword again. The monster no longer leered at him, but appeared enraged.

He struck out, hitting the shield with as much force as he could muster. Like its companions, however, the bokoblin was stronger than it looked and kept its balance. It thrust forward, its blade coming dangerously close to Link’s abdomen as he dodged to the side. Time seemed to slow as Link saw his opening. The bokoblin’s arm extended out, sword thrust forward into open air. The bokoblin had over-extended itself in order to finish the fight.

It realized its mistake too late as Link brought his club down onto the bokoblin’s extended sword arm. Bone crunched under the force of his blow, and the sword clattered to the ground. Another sweep of his club caught the bokoblin in the jaw, sending it stumbling back, looking dazed. Its sword arm was clearly broken.

Link picked up the sword and advanced towards the injured bokoblin. There was a brief moment of hesitation as the bokoblin looked at the sword. Then the bokoblin turned and ran, screaming and holding its arm. It ran in the direction of the Temple of Time, and he wondered if more bokoblins had taken up residence in the old structure. He was just beginning to consider heading into the Temple of Time to deal with the remaining bokoblins when he heard the old man’s approach. He turned and found the old man walking up towards him, his walking staff clicking the ground with each step.

“Clearly, you must be a warrior of some renown, if your skills with the blade are any indication,” he said as he stepped up to Link. He eyed the sword for a moment and then nodded thoughtfully. “That looks like an old Hyrulean soldier’s blade. See the sigil on the pommel? Rare to see one in such good condition these days.”

Link glanced down at his blade and found what appeared to be a bird with outstretched wings underneath a trio of triangles stacked together to form one large triangle stamped into the pommel. He stared at the sigil, frowning. It seemed to mean something to him. Without thinking, he stood taller and held his head up higher. Then he noticed the old man watching him, and he relaxed again, lowering his sword arm. He wished he had a proper sheath.

Considering this, he walked over to the wall that the bokoblins had been hiding behind. Had they just been lying in wait to ambush him? But no. He found the remnants of a small encampment. It was clear that they had been in the process of eating a meal of what looked to be a mutilated rabbit, only partially cooked over the embers of a fire.

A few possessions littered the site—mostly crude trinkets made of wood or bone—but Link only paid attention to the worn scabbard leaning against the wall. He picked this up, noting that it had a generous loop attached to it. He slid the sword into its sheath and then slung the scabbard on his back. It took a few adjustments, but he found that he was able to comfortably unsheathe the sword from this position.

Stepping back out from behind the wall, Link approached the old man. “How long ago did you say that Hyrule fell?”

“Oh, it’s been some time now,” the old man said. “A century, perhaps.”

Link’s heart sank. That disproved his own suspicions of his past. He frowned and looked out across the plateau and plains below it towards the distant castle. A century. One hundred years. “What caused it to fall?”

“Calamity,” was all the old man said before turning and continuing down the hill. Link watched him, noting that he seemed to walk with a slightly more hunched over posture than before. Pursing his lips and feeling frustrated by his lack of knowledge, he fell into step behind the man.

Most of their remaining walk down the hill was done in silence. On the way down, they passed the remnants of a large courtyard with a broken fountain in the center. Surrounding it were several more destroyed buildings; some lacked roofs while others had massive chunks of their walls shattered as if a large creature had simply burst through the house. Thankfully, either no other bokoblins were in the area, or those that were there decided they were not worth attacking.

As they walked, Link found himself often gazing back up at the Temple of Time. The structure had obviously fared better than the buildings surrounding it. While he could see that the panes of glass that used to fill its windows had mostly been shattered, and there were definite signs of disrepair, from Link’s perspective, the building mostly still looked whole. At least it still had a roof.

“There,” said the old man, stopping at the bottom of what appeared to be another courtyard. Link stopped beside him, frowning. The path they had been on continued to the left some ways until it dropped into a deep pool of water surrounded by the remnants of an old stone structure. The man, however, pointed one finger to the right, at what appeared to be a large pile of boulders.

Link followed his gaze, frowning. He looked back at the old man, who lowered his hand and looked at him expectantly.

“I will stay here if you don’t mind. I need to rest.” He rested his staff against the remnants of an old foundation and then eased himself down on it. “Besides. I think I have had enough excitement for one day.”

Uncertain about what that meant, Link eyed the man and then turned, walking towards the pile of rocks. He kept a wary eye out as he crossed the old courtyard, keeping an eye out for any would-be attackers. On the way down, he’d spotted some crudely-made arrows sticking out of a tree, and he did not want to be the target of a bokoblin archers if he could help it.

As he approached the rocks, he soon found that there was a small hollow in the center of the stone. It looked as if there had been a building there once—a gazebo of sorts, perhaps—that had been covered over with stone. Eventually, that rock had been broken to reveal the hidden interior again.

Link stepped up to the hollowed-out rock and was surprised to see a pedestal much like the ones inside the chamber he’d woken up in. It glowed orange from a pattern of curves and straight lines on its surface. The surface was segmented into a few concentric rings with the center one raised slightly. The raised ring had a hollow that looked to match his Sheikah Slate. He glanced back at the old man, who still sat upon the broken wall, watching him. Finally, he unhooked the Sheikah Slate from his belt and placed it into the hollow.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the Sheikah Slate and pedestal both flashed with an orange light, which quickly subsided. The raised center ring sunk into the rest of the pedestal until it formed a smooth flat surface with the Sheikah Slate in its center. Link saw that text had appeared on the face of the Sheikah Slate again.

“Sheikah Tower activated. Please watch for falling rocks.”

Falling rocks?

Before Link could react further, the ground under his feet began to tremble. It began as a low rumble but grew into violent shaking. He stumbled and then lost his balance completely, falling painfully onto his backside. The rock that surrounded the structure cracked and crumbled, falling away in large chunks. Some of the stone directly overhead fell onto the floor. The shaking did not fade, unfortunately. With an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach, he realized that the floor he was sitting on was in motion.

The stone around the structure continued to fall away as the platform Link was on began to rise into the air. He rolled over, remaining on his hands and knees, and watched with wide eyes as his platform continued to rise at a startlingly rapid pace. The platform he was on was shaped like a flat disc, open to the air with supports ringing an inner circle that supported its roof. He cautiously crawled out from under the roof, closer to the edge, and looked down. The ground directly under and around the platform—the tower, now that he saw it more clearly—had cracked as it ripped up centuries-old rock and dirt. The old man had stood up from his wall, looking up at Link with an expression that could only have been astonishment.

The tower continued to rise until, dizzyingly, Link found himself level with the Temple of Time’s uppermost spire, where it shuddered to a stop. He couldn’t accurately measure it, but he felt that he had to be hundreds of feet in the air. The old man was a mere speck at the base of the tower.

A sound drew his attention upwards. Three arm-like appendages that had each laid flat against its small, conical roof suddenly stood up, pointing directly at the sky. At the same time, a shaft of blue light began at the base of the tower and traveled up its center until it reached the pedestal, which flashed a brilliant blue. Link noticed that other parts of the tower were suddenly glowing with a blue light as well. Blue text that Link couldn’t read formed a ring around the roof and other strange symbols on the roof and floor glowed as well.

It was that moment that Link noticed the strange rock that hung down from the center of the roof like a stalactite, directly over the pedestal and Sheikah Slate. Strange, glowing symbols appeared on its black surface and traveled down its length, gathering near its tip. Link saw what looked like condensation forming there. The condensation, which glowed a brilliant blue, grew into a large drop, which then fell directly onto the Sheikah Slate with a noticeable splash.

Link stood up slowly, noting that the stone had gone dark, and approached the pedestal. As he did so, the ring at the center of the pedestal rose again, and the Sheikah Slate was lifted to stand up straight. He saw new text on its face.

“Additional functionality restored.

Stasis Rune… Functional.

Magnesis Rune… Repairs needed/Partially Functional.

Remote Bomb Rune… Functional.

Cryonis Rune… Functional.

Teleportation Rune… Repairs needed/Non-Functional.

Camera Rune… Repairs needed/Non-Functional.

Cartography Mode… Functional.

Telescope Mode… Functional.

Master Cycle Zero… Unable to detect/Non-Functional.”

After a few seconds, the text disappeared, replaced by a new interface. Several colored squares formed a row across the center of the screen. Within each square was a similarly colored icon, though Link was uncertain of what any of them meant. Curiously, he reached towards the icon with the blue circle in the center.

“Remember…”

He jumped with a start at the sudden reemergence of the woman’s voice. Though he still heard it from in his head, it seemed to come from a certain direction this time. He spun around, and his eyes fell on the distant castle. A pale white light shone at its center, which pulsed as she spoke again. “Try. Try to remember, Link.”

He stepped across the platform, staring at the pulsing light. “Who are you?” he said. “Do you know who I am? Why I’m here?” A pause. Then she spoke again.

“You have been asleep for the past one hundred years,” she said, and he stumbled to a halt, all other thoughts fleeing his mind. One hundred years? That wasn’t possible. That couldn’t be possible.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean I’ve—”

The ground beneath his feet shuddered, and he braced himself. Was the tower going to sink back down again? Raise up higher? But no, the tower didn’t move. The castle in the far distance, however, had changed some. A strange red-purple haze began to rise up from the ground around it. It swirled around the castle lazily, beginning to obscure the pale light.

“The beast! Link, I know you do not remember yet, but when the Calamity regains its full power, it will destroy everything!” The woman’s voice grew urgent, with a definite note of strain.

As he watched the castle, the haze began to take shape. It continued to swirl around the castle, but at its forefront, it began to solidify into a much darker shape. Though it was hard to make out from this distance, the fact that he could see any detail at all was a testament to the entity’s enormity. It formed what looked almost like a creature’s snout, with horns like a boar. It continued to take shape until a distinct pig-like head, though deformed, was visible at the forefront of the smoky haze. The beast opened its massive mouth, and the ground beneath his feet trembled again. He thought he could make out something like the distant sound of a thunderous roar. It continued to circle the castle, roaring again and rising into the air above the central spire.

Suddenly, the pulsing light at the center of the castle seemed to burst through the rising haze, and the creature’s head broke apart, growing indistinct haze again. The haze sunk back towards the castle as if the pale light absorbed it. It did not fade completely, and the red-purple haze continued to roil around the base of the castle, diminished. The creature was no longer visible, however; a fact that Link was very grateful for.

“I fear the Calamity has sensed something has changed. It presses, even now, to break free of its bonds, and I must do what I can to reinforce them. I do not wish for it to realize that you still live. But go! You must hurry, Link. Before it’s too late.”

In the center of the distant castle, the pulsing light faded away, and Link suddenly felt very, very alone.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

The climb down from the tower was not nearly as difficult as Link initially thought it would be. The sides of the tower were covered with a lattice-like pattern of stone that made for easy hand and footholds. In addition to that, positioned in a spiraling ring around the tower were a series of platforms, clearly meant to assist with climbing up or down the tower. He found that it was really quite easy, though his hands ached by the time he reached the bottom.

In truth, however, he wished it had been more difficult. Perhaps then it could have distracted him from the voice’s words or what he had seen at the top of the tower. He’d heard the strain in her voice and sensed the difficulty she experienced with that creature, but what was he supposed to do? She gave him no instructions beyond telling him to go. She warned him of dire consequences—the world’s end, no less—but shed no lights on the means of avoiding such an outcome.

Perhaps, if he’d had his memories, then some of it would have made sense. However, he was as lost now as he was before she’d spoken to him again. He’d tried to pierce the darkness of his own mind, but it was like trying to remember a dream long forgotten. He could almost sense his past, just out of reach. It was maddening.

When he finally reached the bottom, he intended to tell the man of the mystery woman and the creature he’d seen—perhaps the man had heard her as well. Surely, he would at least be able to tell him about the creature. However, when Link looked to the broken wall where the old man had been sitting, he found it empty, save for the man’s walking staff and a small satchel, which had fallen to the ground.

Fear stabbed through his heart, and he immediately unsheathed his sword. He held it at the ready, looking around with wary anticipation for the attack that he was certain would come. He didn’t have to wait long.

Something flew by his head, and he leaped to the side. A moment later, another arrow flew right through where he’d been standing, clattering harmlessly across the ground several feet away. Looking around quickly in the direction the arrow had come from, Link saw three bokoblins on the top of a nearby hill. Two wielded crude wooden bows, while one, standing behind them looked familiar to him. One of its arms appeared broken, held in place by a rough sling. The blue bokoblin from earlier had apparently returned with friends.

Gripping the sword tightly in his hand, Link dove to the side as another pair of arrows flew through the air at him. The bokoblins’ aim was poor, and he doubted either of those arrows would have even hit him had he stood still, but all it would take was one lucky shot.

He began to sprint towards the hill. It was foolish, he knew—running straight at a pair of archers was surely a suicide mission—but he had no good cover around him, save the tower. And the last thing he wanted was to be pinned down in one location as the archers got their bearing and honed in their shots.

Moving in a zigzag line, he managed to avoid two more volleys before, blessedly, reaching the hill. It was steep on this side, but his momentum helped him scale it. As he crested the hill, however, he found one of the bokoblins had drawn another arrow—this one aimed directly at his heart.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he leaped forward, moving through the gap between the two archers. He felt a sharp pain in his upper right arm but ignored it for the time being. Instead, he spun around, sword sweeping wide. He caught the first archer in the neck and ended up slicing through the bow of the second archer. A cry of pain notified Link that he’d sliced that archer’s hand as well.

Link continued his spin around and felt sudden, though brief, resistance. The blue bokoblin looked at him with shocked red eyes. In its hand, it held a wicked-looking dagger, poised to plunge down into Link’s previously exposed back. A heartbeat later, the dagger fell as the bokoblin doubled over, holding its bleeding stomach.

Confident that this bokoblin, at least, would not bother him again, Link turned to see the remaining bokoblin archer, sans its broken bow, scrambling down the hill, yelling something in panicked tones. Not wanting a repeat of this encounter, Link sheathed his sword and picked up the bow dropped by the other bokoblin. He nocked one of the arrows, drew the string to his cheek, and carefully aimed. After making a quick adjustment for the breeze, he loosed. The arrow arced through the air and found its home in the bokoblin’s unprotected back. It fell face forward and lie prone on the ground, unmoving.

He stared at the bokoblin in satisfaction for several seconds before everything crashed down around him. He dropped the bow, taking a horrified step back, looking around him at the carnage he’d wrought in, what? A few seconds? Three more dead or dying creatures. Considering the previous two that he’d killed, that made five. Five lives taken with apparent ease.

Who was he?

He was beginning to fear the answer. That the bokoblins were grotesque and dangerous did little to sooth the shame he felt in spilling so much blood. What kind of man had he been in his past? His distant past, if the woman’s voice was to be believed.

The pain in his arm managed to draw his attention away from that disconcerting thought, and he looked down to find that his sleeve had been sliced by the arrow shot at him earlier. It looked as though it had only grazed him, but blood oozed down his arm, staining his sleeve. After taking quick stock of the dead around him, Link decided that his own clothes would make for a better bandage than the dirty loincloths that the bokoblins wore.

He tore the sleeve on his right arm and, after cutting off the bloodied section, used the remaining fabric to bind his arm. It didn’t look deep, but it bled enough to warrant the bandage. That done, he began to gather up what remaining supplies he could. He turned to the dead blue bokoblin. He was mildly surprised to see the shield it had wielded earlier slung around its back. The dropped dagger, which had a rusted blade, rested on the ground next to its head.

Link carefully removed the shield from the bokoblin’s back, sliding the long strap out from under the bokoblin’s chest and inspected it. It was a simple wooden shield that Link doubted would hold up to much in battle. He could already see several deep gouges in the wood, including at least one placed there by Link himself. It had two simple leather straps to hold it in battle and one longer one with which to sling it around his back. He slid his right arm into this, testing its weight. It felt too light to him—likely too flimsy to protect against much more than clubs and rusty swords, and he doubted it would stop an arrow shot straight on, but it was something. He slung the shield, satisfied to at least have some measure of protection, and turned back to the other dead bokoblin.

He picked up the discarded bow from earlier, pursing his lips. It was not in great condition, nor was it made of very good wood, from what he could tell. The bokoblins were not very good craftsmen, it would seem. Still, though, it had shot true, and Link did not want to find himself unprepared in case he was attacked from afar again. He unstrung it to prevent any further wear on it. Next, he found a simple leather quiver, which he strapped to his waist, and several additional arrows around the fallen bokoblin. Finally, he picked up the blue bokoblin’s dagger and slid it into his belt.

Feeling at least somewhat better prepared than before, he made his way down the hill and over to the discarded staff and satchel. He left the staff but picked up the satchel, slinging it over his shoulder. He placed the coiled bowstring into it and, after a moment, pulled out the single remaining apple within. He found a half-full waterskin in the satchel as well. Ignoring the brief stab of guilt that he felt at eating the old man’s apple, he took a bite and looked up towards the Temple of Time.

He didn’t know if the old man was still alive, or even if the bokoblins would have taken him there if they did kidnap him, but he had no other place to start. That old man was his only lifeline in this strange, mysterious world. He had to at least try to find him, especially if it was his helping Link that resulted in his capture in the first place. And if Link was some kind of warrior in his past life, he would much rather put those skills to use protecting life than taking it.

Somewhere along the way up the hill to the Temple of Time, Link decided that whatever his combat skills were, stealth was not one of them.

As he walked, the shield on his back continually bounced off of the old scabbard, making a knocking sound with every other step or so. Attempts to tighten the shield were met with failure, and he even briefly considered abandoning it. Thinking back on the ambush earlier encouraged him to keep it for now, though.

And what will you do with it, Link? He wondered quietly to himself as he crept around a ruined structure that might have been a place for prayer, based on the altar and ruined statue in its center at one end of the building. Deflect the arrows back at them?

He found that he was thinking of himself more and more as Link. It seemed to call to him almost like an old friend that he hadn’t seen in a long time. However, if the woman was right in his name, was she right in the other things? No, he thought. That can’t be possible. And even if I was, why me? Then he thought back to the way he’d killed the bokoblins earlier and pursed his lips.

He found that the hill leading up to the Temple of Time had been separated into several tiered levels, with each level holding several old buildings of various sizes and shapes. Some had probably been for priests’ living quarters, based on ancient bed frames that he found within. Others, perhaps, served religious purposes. Prayer buildings or places that priests could teach smaller groups. Or perhaps this had been a town once, and these were homes and shops. He truly didn’t know.

He was still considering this as he stepped up to the final building on the path before it split and led to the Temple of Time itself. The large building was mostly intact structure, despite missing its roof, and part of one wall. He thought that it would be a good place from which to conduct reconnaissance before running into the Temple.

As he stepped into the structure, he was struck by the fact that this was a larger building than the others below. As he gazed around the large, empty building, he turned, looking towards a previously unforeseen corner. He gasped and took a step back, eyes widening.

Before Link stood a massive construction. A statue, perhaps, but one almost as tall as the building he stood in. It had six long, spindly legs, each ending in a three-clawed foot, though only three appeared to remain whole. The other three legs ended in jagged stumps. It had a cylindrical body, wider at its base and narrower at its top. A single, black circle adorned the center of its body, and within it, he could see a dark sphere, like an ominous black eye.

It looked intimidating in its own right, yet the dread he felt as he stared up at this thing went beyond its appearance or size. He wanted to run, to hide, to find something to put between himself and this construct. Nausea immediately rose in his belly at the sight. It turned his blood to ice.

He turned away from it, but it did little to help the rush of anxiety he felt. Now the hairs on his neck stood on end. It felt as though it was watching him. Abandoning his plan to use this building at all, he went back to the doorway and, after ensuring no bokoblins were in sight, hurried out.

Placing a wall between him and it helped, but he could still feel his heart racing. His palms were sweaty, too. The building was nestled between two staircases that led up to the Temple of Time’s entrance, and Link wasted no time in hurrying towards one of them, looking over his shoulder the whole way.

However, as Link crept closer to one of the staircases, he was dismayed to see several more of the strange, many-legged statues up closer to the Temple. These appeared to be facing the Temple, and were in various states of disrepair like the other, missing legs or one of the strange fin-like protuberances at the top of their cylindrical “heads”.

Link briefly considered his options, but thinking of the old man helped him steel his nerves. They were just statues. Right? And they were clearly old. These ones had moss growing on their metallic bodies, and at least one bird had built a nest in the crook of one of their legs.

He forced thoughts of his strange apprehension around them aside and began to slowly climb the staircase, mindful of any loose stones that might give him away. The land around the Temple of Time was, blessedly, alive with the sounds of various birds and insects, which likely helped mask his other sounds to some degree.

After slowly creeping past the trio of broken metal statues, he reached the outer wall of the Temple of Time. Its ancient doorway stood open just ten feet from him, and now that he was here, he could hear the faint sounds of movement from within the Temple. He placed his unstrung bow against the stone wall and pulled the shield from his back, locking it into place on his right arm. After this, he reached back and took his sword from its sheath in a slow, controlled movement that made little sound. He moved quietly along the wall until he reached the entrance. After taking a deep breath, he slowly peeked his head around the doorway to peer inside.

Inside the Temple was a long central aisle surrounded on both sides by old, stone pews. Most were broken. At the end of the aisle was a large winged statue of a woman in a long, flowing dress. Around its base were several, smaller statues with similar features. Link saw that he had been mistaken in his earlier assumption that the Temple of Time hadn’t seen the level of destruction visited upon other buildings. Though the western side of the structure had seemed almost whole from afar, the eastern side had almost completely collapsed, save for a few key sections of the wall. He was no builder, but he thought that, without those sections of wall, the roof, if not the entire building, would have likely caved in on itself years ago.

Light streamed in from the shattered wall, revealing a small, crackling campfire on the Temple’s stone floor. A dead boar had been cut open next to the fire, and a roasting spit had been erected over the flames, where several choice hunks of meat had been hung to cook. As tasty as that might have seemed to Link, who had only had a couple of apples since waking, his appetite was driven from him when he saw the bokoblin sitting next to the fire. It tore into a piece of the cooked meat with greedy abandon. Its back was turned to him, and he saw its weapons—a club and wooden shield with white bones strapped to its face—lying on the ground a few feet away from it.

He stepped carefully into the Temple. Once he passed the doorway, he noted two side rooms to either side of the entrance, both of which were empty of bokoblins, though it looked as though they’d been used for storage in the past. Only the single bokoblin appeared to be keeping watch of the Temple at the moment. Perhaps the others were out hunting or patrolling… or perhaps Link had already dispatched them. That was good, he supposed, though the thought gave him little joy.

Link moved at a crouch, trying to keep himself hidden behind the broken pews. A large amount of broken stone and rubble around him made stealth difficult, however, and he accidentally nudged a stone chip with his foot. He froze, just behind the pew, as he heard the bokoblin react. It made a curious noise, and he could hear it shuffle, as though looking around. He held his breath, the knuckles gripping his sword turning white with anticipation. He was fairly confident in his ability to take out this lone enemy, but if it called others in the area…

Link heard the bokoblin settle back down, and then it made what sounded like a laugh as it bit into another piece of meat. Link peeked over the pew. Perhaps it was enjoying the chance to eat the meal to itself without having to share. Just as he was considering whether or not he should even attack the bokoblin—it wasn’t currently threatening him, after all—the tip of his sword scratched against the stone pew next to him.

The bokoblin reacted immediately, leaping up and spinning around. It opened his mouth to yell something in its strange language, and Link lunged forward with his sword. He ran the bokoblin through, piercing where he assumed its heart was. For a brief moment, it looked at Link with shocked, scared eyes, and then he saw the life leech out of them. Setting his jaw, Link grabbed the bokoblin’s arm and lowered its body to the ground silently.

Hurriedly, he walked over to the broken wall and looked outside, searching for any others nearby. Beyond another couple of those multilegged broken statues outside, Link saw no other threats. Unfortunately, nor did he see any indication of the old man, alive or otherwise.

Sighing, he allowed himself to relax some and turned back to look at the Temple. On one of the pews, Link saw what looked like some old, filthy rags. He used these to wipe the purple bokoblin blood off of his blade. It wasn’t as clean as he would like, and he was aware that he hadn’t cleaned it earlier, which likely meant the inside of his sheath was filthy now. He felt somewhat better by the simple act of cleaning his blade, though. He sheathed it, placed the shield on his back, and then exhaled, sitting down on one of the broken pews. His eyes fell on the dead bokoblin, killed while simply enjoying its meal. No threat to Link. Not really, if his earlier victories were any indication.

Would such things be easier if he had his memories? If so, was that a good thing?

“You appear to be deep in thought,” said a voice behind him. Link leaped to his feet, spinning around in surprise to find the old man standing at the entrance of the Temple. He looked no worse for wear than before and, in fact, had apparently retrieved his staff at some point. Had he merely wandered off, then? Had Link come all this way for nothing?

“I thought you had been—” Link began, but the old man’s chuckles silenced him.

“You always were quick to rush off when you thought someone needed protection,” the old man said.

“What?”

The old man tapped his staff on the ground, the sound seemingly louder and more resonant than it should have been, silencing Link. “Meet me in the steeple. I wish to show you something, and there is something else that I wish to give you as well.”

“I don’t understand. Who—” Again, Link fell silent as the old man turned from him… and disappeared. One moment, he had been standing there, and the next, he was simply gone without any trace. A chill ran down Link’s spine, and he looked around quickly, trying to determine if he had somehow merely missed the old man’s departure. He ran to the door, looking outside but found nothing.

Finally, knowing deep in his heart that he would eventually oblige the old man’s command out of pure curiosity, if nothing else, he found a section of broken wall that appeared scalable and began to climb. The old man had suggested that he knew Link. He intended to find out what the old man meant.

He found the rough, pock-marked, and partially broken surface of the wall simple enough to climb. At one point, he was forced to use the knife he collected from the dead bokoblin earlier to pull out some old and loose mortar, but the climb was otherwise uneventful. Once he reached the roof, he pulled himself up onto the red slate tiles. Several had broken over the years, and entire sections of the roof had collapsed.

He carefully made his way up to the roof’s peak, satisfied that the worst of the damage had clearly been done to the eastern slope of the roof. Once there, he fixed his eyes on the steeple, which had suffered heavy damage. Facing Link, was a large hole in the steeple where a window had likely once been. The opposing window and surrounding stone had long since crumbled away, as well, allowing him to see out the other side.

He made his way across the roof, but it was only once he got closer to the steeple that he saw the old man, his back turned to Link, staring out at the land of Hyrule visible through the broken steeple wall. The man’s hands were clasped behind his back and he looked strangely different now. Taller. Stronger. His walking staff was nowhere to be seen. The old man did not turn towards him until he cautiously climbed into the open steeple.

The man smiled in a strangely somber manner. “Well done, Link,” he said. “Though you may lack memory of your past, your skills and nature clearly remain.” Link remained silent, eyes locked onto those of the old man. The man chuckled softly. “I suppose it is time that I was honest with you.”

The old man turned back, fixing his eyes on the distant castle. “My name,” he said before exhaling heavily. “is Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I am—was—the last king of Hyrule.” He paused and then continued in a softer tone. “A kingdom which no longer exists.”

The old man was suddenly bathed in a strange ethereal green light, nearly blinding Link. When the light faded, the old man had changed. He no longer wore the old cloak, nor was his beard as bushy and unkempt. Instead, he wore a blue waistcoat with gold trim over a white doublet, white trousers, and a pair of black leather boots that floated a few inches above the ground. He wore a large belt buckle with the Hyrulean Royal Crest on its face, the same as on Link’s sword. His beard and hair were trimmed and neat in appearance, and he wore a golden crown upon his head. Though the bright light from earlier had faded, the old man—the king—still faintly glowed in the same light.

Link felt as though a bucket of cold water had been overturned onto his head, leaving him chilled to the core. He took a step back, but his heel reached the edge of the steeple room. He briefly thought of the sword on his back, but knew at once that it would be useless against this being. This ghost.

“The Great Calamity was merciless. It devastated everything in its path, lo, a century ago.” King Rhoam turned to face Link, his expression distant. “It was then that my life was taken from me.”

“I don’t—” Link began. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “I don’t understand. What is the Calamity? Are you the guide? The guide that the woman promised me?”

Something in King Rhoam’s expression changed. It great sharper, and his eyes met Link’s. “I have remained here ever since I died, in spirit form. I… did not know why for a long time. I assumed that, perhaps, it had been because of the royal family’s connection to this place. Our history. She… eventually spoke to me as well.”

The king turned, moving closer to the broken wall. His legs did not move to propel him; he floated, instead. “I did not think it wise to overwhelm you so soon after you awoke. I feared your memory would be too fragile. So, rather than that, I assumed a temporary, less… alarming form.” He looked out at the distant castle again. “Forgive my deception. I see now that your mind is still quite strong.”

Link stepped up next to the king, looking up into his face. “I can’t remember anything,” he said, a note of desperation entering his voice. “If you can tell me something—anything—to help me…”

King Rhoam looked down at Link, his expression growing increasingly somber. “I shall tell you what happened one hundred years ago, Link. Perhaps hearing of it shall awaken something within you.” He looked back towards the castle, where the strange creature made of purple mist had risen again, circling around the castle. It did not seem to be able to leave the immediate area surrounding the castle, however.

“To know the Calamity Ganon’s true form, one must know the story from an age long past. The demon king was born into this kingdom long ago. Legends speak of a man once, others speak of a beast. Either way, the legends always speak of terrible power and destruction left in its wake. The horror you see now, however, is what is left of that being, transformed by Malice and an endless cycle of death and rebirth.

“Many in the kingdom had long since forgotten any truth to the stories of Ganon. They were legends. Fairy tales. However, when I was a younger man, there was a mystic, a… fortune teller, who told me a prophecy. He told me that the signs of Ganon’s resurrection were clear and that the power to oppose him lied dormant under the ground.”

The king turned to Link. “I did not believe him at first,” he said. “But there were… other things that convinced me of his legitimacy.” He looked away. “He disappeared soon thereafter. I do not know what happened to him, nor where he came from.” Link remained silent, and King Rhoam continued.

“We decided to heed the prophecy and began excavating large areas of land. It wasn’t long before we discovered several ancient relics made by the hands of our distant ancestors. These relics, gods curse them, were giant machines piloted by warriors.” His expression darkened, his ethereal hands clenching into tight fists. “We also discovered the Guardians. You likely saw them outside of the Temple. These mechanical creations were meant to be autonomous soldiers, created eons ago, to fight the Calamity Ganon.

“Our legends spoke of these, and the learned among us knew that there was some truth to those old legends. Those legends also spoke of a princess with a sacred power and her appointed knight, chosen by the sword of evil’s bane—the sword that would seal the darkness. They, alone, had the power to battle and seal Ganon away.

“One hundred years ago, there was a princess set to inherit that sacred power, and a skilled knight at her side,” King Rhoam said, looking to Link. He felt a shiver run down his spine. “It was clear that we were to follow our ancestors’ path. So we selected four skilled individuals from across Hyrule, tasked with the duty of piloting the Divine Beasts. Mipha, the Zora; Daruk, the Goron; Urbosa, the Gerudo; Revali, the Rito. With the princess as their commander, we dubbed these pilots Champions—a name that would solidify their unique bond.”

King Rhoam looked back out at the castle. The distant creature had drawn back down into the depths of the castle, perhaps locked away again by the mysterious woman. The king continued, sounding wistful. “The princess, her appointed knight, and the rest of the Champions were on the brink of sealing away Ganon. They were so very close… But nay. Ganon was cunning, and he responded with a plan beyond our imagining.

“He appeared from deep beneath Hyrule Castle and seized control of the Divine Beasts and the Guardians that our people had spent so much time preparing for the purpose of battling him. He turned them against us.” The king’s expression grew bitter. Angry. His hands clenched into tight fists. “The Champions lost their lives. Most residing in the castle and the city around it did as well. The appointed knight was gravely wounded in defense of the princess.”

This triggered something inside of Link. More of a feeling than an actual memory. Fear. Pain. Desperation. Anger… Resignation. He reached out a shaking hand, placing it against the jagged wall, and shook his head. No.

“And thus, the kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed. Devastated absolutely by the Calamity Ganon,” the king said, and then paused. He looked back at Link and seemed to silently acknowledge what he was feeling. “However,” he said, “the princess survived.” Relief. Incredible relief. It was like a sudden weight lifted off of Link’s chest. He didn’t know why, but it was imperative to him to know that this princess had survived. “And she faced Ganon alone.”

Silence fell between them for a long time. Link didn’t know what to say. What to ask. Deep down, he felt as though he knew this… yet he had nothing. No memories, no knowledge, nothing beyond a rush of emotions that had faded as quickly as it had risen up in him. The king turned fully back around to face Link, and for a moment, Link thought that he heard the faint sound of a bell tinkling as he did so.

“That princess was my daughter. My Zelda,” he said. “And the courageous knight who protected her right up until the very end… Well, I am sure that you have already determined the truth. That knight was you, Link.”

Link exhaled slowly—deliberately—and tried to consider how he felt about receiving this news. If true, then it would explain his skills and abilities. That was comforting, in a way, to know that there was an explanation, and that it wasn’t one that involved his being just a killer. He’d been a protector, too. A knight. But he’d also been something more than that, and that gave him pause. He’d not just been a knight, but he’d been a being of legend. Chosen and tasked with defeating the creature that currently inhabited the castle in the far distance. How did one respond to that burden? How did one carry it?

“You fought valiantly, but your fate took an unfortunate turn,” the king continued, uninhibited by Link’s thoughts. “You were taken to the Shrine of Resurrection deep in the bedrock of the Great Plateau. And here you stand now, revitalized, one hundred years later. The woman you spoke of—the words of guidance you have been hearing since you woke are from Princess Zelda herself.

“Even now, as she works to restrain Ganon from within Hyrule Castle, she seeks to speak with you, to call for your help. However, I fear that my daughter’s power will soon be exhausted.” The king’s expression was grave, and Link felt the sense of dread in the pit of his stomach growing. “The beast Ganon appears to press and fight her control more than ever now, and it has been many years since I last heard her voice. Once her power is gone, Ganon will freely regenerate himself and I am certain that nothing will stop him from killing Zelda and consuming our land.”

The king fell silent for a time, bowing his head and closing his eyes. Link saw incredible pain in his expression. “Ultimately, I was unable to save my own kingdom. In fact, my mistakes may have even contributed to its downfall. I have no right to ask this of you—not after all that you have sacrificed already—but I am powerless here. You must save her, Link. Save my daughter. And do whatever you must to annihilate Ganon.”

The world seemed to spin around Link. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think. He’d just woken up. He didn’t know who he was, where he was, or how he’d gotten there. And now… this. This task. This burden. Did the king know how absurd this sounded? Did he know how wrong this was? But no. He wasn’t even sure the king was paying attention to him now. The spirit’s eyes had grown distant and his tone more commanding than before. He was no longer an old man or even a pleading father—he was a king giving an order he expected to be followed. It felt familiar somehow.

“I know little of the state of the world beyond the borders of this plateau, beyond what my daughter spoke to me of in years past. I know not whether Ganon still controls the Guardians that surround the castle, or even if they still function, and I know as much about the Divine Beasts. But it would be foolish to think that you can attack and defeat Ganon in your current state. Preparations must be made.” He pointed out the broken window and Link stepped up beside him in order to see what he pointed at.

A pair of mountains—or, perhaps, a single mountain that had long since been broken into two halves—lay to the east, where his finger indicated. “To the east, there is a village in the wilderness. The northbound road beyond the Dueling Peaks will lead you to Kakariko Village. There, you will find the elder, Impa, assuming she still lives. Like I, she was set to wait these last hundred years for your return, and I believe she will be able to tell you more of the path that lies before you.”

King Rhoam grew silent for a time before looking down at Link now, fixing him with a kindly stare. The royal tone faded, and he looked more like the old man sitting by the fire. “I know that this is a great deal for you to take in, my boy, and there is little I can say or do to make it any less so.”

Link glanced up at the king and then back out at Hyrule. At the green plains, the distant volcano, the broken mountain, and finally, the castle. The beast seemed quelled for the moment, but he knew it could reappear soon. Would the next time it appeared finally be when it broke free? If the princess had kept it locked away all this time, surely she could hold out for a time longer, right? How much time was left?

He felt like a drowning man with no land in sight. Every word the king said was a wave crashing down on his head, threatening to push him beneath the black depths. But he knew that he wouldn’t turn this old king or his daughter away. He knew—somehow—that he could never have turned away such a task, past or present. Perhaps it was because of duty, or because it was the right thing to do, or even because a hidden part of Link simply wanted to save the princess—in that moment, he did not know quite why he would accept it. But he would.

“How… How will I defeat Ganon?” It was a foolish question. If the king had that answer, he would have already said so. Perhaps even found another to enact the plan. Still, though, he had to ask.

 “I do not know,” King Rhoam said, smiling in that sad way he had before. “But I am confident that Impa will have some thoughts on the matter. She was always among the craftiest of Sheikah. And if Zelda has begun to speak to you, then perhaps she has also discovered a weakness in the Calamity Ganon.”

“Then… how do I get down from the Plateau?” Link said, his heart sinking further with the king’s reply.

Seemingly relieved, the king actually laughed and placed an ethereal hand on Link’s shoulder. His touch seemed cold and not fully there. Had he felt like that when Link pulled him away from the bokoblins? “My boy, now that is something I can assist with.” He turned and floated around Link, going to a small bundle in one corner of the steeple. “I have gathered you some supplies for your journey,” he said as he took up position by the bundle of cloth.

Link stepped over to the bundle and knelt, reaching out and pulling the first article off of it. It was a thick wool cloak—the same one, it seemed, that the king had been wearing earlier. Link did not understand how a spirit such as King Rhoam could have held a physical object such as this, but that was hardly the strangest thing he had encountered since waking. In addition to the cloak, he found a pair of gloves, a length of rope, and a pouch containing several multi-colored gems cut into hexagonal shapes. Most of the gems were blue or green, but he saw a few red gems, as well as one purple one. He looked up at the old man questioningly.

“Rupees. Still the accepted form of currency in Hyrule, I believe, unless things have changed so dramatically in the last one hundred years,” the old man said, smiling. “It is not a lot, but it is all I have been able to find on the Plateau. I am sure the bokoblins did their fair share of looting when they took up residence. However, it should be enough to buy some basic supplies off of merchants or some of the inns that exist along the roads.”

Link nodded and then looked at the final item, which had been at the bottom of the bundle. At first, it appears to just be a brown cloth, but further inspection revealed a wooden frame around the cloth. The frame had been folded, thanks to a few simple metal joints along the wood. He unfolded the frame, locking the joints, and was surprised to find that it was larger than he initially thought. With the frame unfolded, the brown cloth stretched out to reveal a simple, but stylized image of a bird woven into the fabric. On its underside, a pair of curved wooden poles formed what appeared to be handles.

“That,” the king said, sounding proud. “is my paraglider. It is a special piece of equipment—one that has served me well for many years. It is no longer of any use to me in my current state, but I believe that you may benefit greatly from it, especially considering the recent resurgence of those towers throughout the land…”

Link frowned at the paraglider, turning it over in his hands, trying to get an understanding of what exactly it was or how it would be useful.

“That glider has a special quality to it. Made with special Rito fabric that is extremely lightweight and particularly adept at catching even the slightest breeze, it will allow its user to glide off of any height, not to mention slow any fall. I will admit, it can be terrifying at first, but once you grow accustomed to it, the air will be open to you. Just ensure you have a good grip before leaping.”

Link looked up at the old king dubiously, who smiled knowingly. “I am afraid,” King Rhoam said, “that this will be quite necessary for you to get off of the Great Plateau. When you were placed in the Shrine of Resurrection, the only path up onto the plateau was collapsed and has since flooded. I am still not sure how the bokoblins got up here—they likely found a way to climb up, or perhaps they were always here but only recently emboldened by the lack of other inhabitants.”

Link looked down at the paraglider with uncertainty, and then back up at the old king. King Rhoam had begun to change. It had been nearly imperceptible at first—the ethereal glow had seemed stronger, but that had been all—but now Link found that the king had grown translucent.

Rhoam smiled sadly and reached out, placing a hand on Link’s shoulder. It was feather light and cold. “It appears that my time has finally come,” he said as he grew less substantial.

Link’s eyes widened. “No!” He stood quickly and was shocked when the king’s hand did not stay on his shoulder, but instead, remained in the same place that it had been before. As such, it ended up somewhere in Link’s gut. It was terribly uncomfortable and cold, and the king removed it quickly. “I… I still have no memories. You’ve barely told me anything! Can’t you stay?” He hated the pleading tone in his voice. If he was to be this hero that the king spoke of, he would have to be stronger than this, wouldn’t he?

“My purpose was to guide you onto the path, Link,” Rhoam said. His feet had faded completely from existence, and his legs were beginning to do so as well. “But I trust you will have the strength to go on. Seek out Impa, as I said, or whoever she entrusted with her knowledge, if she has passed on. That is where you will find the information you seek.” The king looked down at himself and seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he looked up at Link, the skin at his eyes crinkling with a smile. “And, please, take care of my daughter. She has waited long for you. Farewell.”

Link watched as the king’s ethereal glow faded, along with his body. Soon, he was left alone in the Temple of Time’s steeple, gazing mutely at the place where the last king of Hyrule had been only moments before. He took a step towards the hole in the wall that looked out towards Hyrule Castle. In the distance, the beast had risen again. He watched as it writhed and twisted before being pulled back down towards the castle. He watched and felt no courage.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Link spent the night in the steeple, rather than try to make camp in a place that he could potentially be ambushed by bokoblins. He had climbed down briefly to collect some of the boar meat that the bokoblin had been cooking earlier, though. He wrapped himself in the king’s cloak, which proved to be surprisingly warm for something worn by a spirit, and leaned against the cold brick wall, eating a few strips of the meat, until he fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamt while he slept—graphic dreams that eventually woke him up feeling anxious and disoriented. What he dreamt, however, was a mystery. The contents of the dreams were as fleeting as his memories—occasionally just at the edge of his mind, but unable to be grasped in any detail. Perhaps they had been memories themselves. He did not know.

When he finally did awake for the final time, he saw that the sun was beginning to rise just to the left of the distant Dueling Peaks, as King Rhoam had called them. The sky was still dark to the west but lightened to shades of violet and pink the further east he looked. For a time, he enjoyed simply watching the sunrise, gradually bathing the land in its light. It was peaceful. He kept himself wrapped in the cloak as he watched—the plateau was chilly in the morning.

Eventually, the time came for him to rise and begin gathering up his equipment. He once again strapped his sword to his back, along with his shield. He shoved the pouch of rupees into the satchel he’d taken from the king’s things earlier the day prior. He slipped the gloves onto his hands and wrapped the loop of rope around his right shoulder. Finally, he picked up the paraglider, looking at it dubiously.

Stepping forward, he looked down from the steeple to the ground below. The king had said the paraglider would slow his fall. Would it work when jumping off of the Temple of Time? He considered the distance between him and the ground. It was high, to be sure, but likely survivable as long as he landed correctly. If he landed incorrectly, however, he would likely break his legs, if not worse.

“Well,” he said, smiling tightly. “That’s a pleasant thought.”

And then he jumped from the steeple before he could second-guess his decision, gripping the glider tightly in his gloved hands. For a brief moment, he was falling, and his stomach seemed to end up somewhere in the region of his throat. However, after that heartbeat, he found that his descent had slowed as the glider suddenly filled with air above his head. Amazingly, he slowly floated down to the ground, just as the king had said. When he touched down on the ground, he did so gently. No broken legs. Not even as much as a bruised foot. He brought the glider down to eye level so that he could marvel at its construction. How was such a thing even possible?

It took Link several seconds of examining the glider to finally determine how to unlock the hinges that would allow it to fold up. Once folded, it became fairly portable. It would not fit in his satchel by any means, but its light weight made it easy to carry in one hand. He would eventually have to figure out an easier way to travel with so many possessions, however. As it stood now, he did not have any real means of traveling with food or other supplies. He had a few weapons, a satchel containing some rupees and an old bowstring, rope, and an apparently magic paraglider. He would need more supplies than that if he hoped to travel any significant amount of distance.

Sighing, Link approached the Temple’s outer wall, where he’d left the unstrung bow the day before. It was, thankfully, right where he’d left it, and he picked it up. His next thought was food, and he stepped into the Temple of Time, only to find that the boar carcass, as well as the remaining cooked meat, had gone missing. It had to mean there were still more bokoblins in the area as well. Great, he thought. He would have to keep an eye out for more ambushes.

He began walking. While he tried to be quiet, it was very obvious to him that if there were any bokoblins still in the area, they would likely be able to hear him. No attack came, however, as he made his way down the hill. Perhaps the string of bodies that he had left in his wake the day before had scared them off from the area. That would, at least, be one positive in light of everything Link had done the day before.

It did not take Link very long to reach the base of the Sheikah Tower, which still stood where it had been yesterday, blue light emanating from its core and the distant platform overhead. Along the way, Link had managed to gather several apples from a large apple tree, which he had stuffed into his pack after greedily eating three. The apples helped, both with hunger and thirst, though he knew he would soon need something more substantial. He still had some meat left over from the boar but knew it would not last long. It would probably be safe to eat for the rest of the day, at most.

He wondered if he had ever hunted in his past. His attempts at stealth, thus far, had not gone over as well as he’d have hoped, but he seemed to be a decent shot with a bow… He wondered if he could he make some kind of trap?

After considering this for a moment, he was forced to admit that, regardless of whatever skills he had in the past, he certainly did not know how to make a proper animal trap now. He could probably shoot one with an arrow, but he would likely only have a single shot for most animals. It was something he would have to attempt later. For now, he had some cooked boar meat and apples. It would suffice for a time.

As he came down the final hill before reaching the tower, he noticed something that he hadn’t seen before—a small water reservoir with broken stone pillars on either side. It looked out of place, and as Link approached, he thought that he could see why. The pillars, upon closer inspection, were the remains of ancient stone arches, and beneath the water, Link could see the remains of a staircase that led down towards the stone wall that ringed the entire plateau. An ancient Guardian also sat half-submerged in the water.

The king said that the entrance to the plateau had been collapsed and flooded, Link thought as he gazed down at the still pond. It was clear to him that he was looking at what used to be a far easier method of getting off the plateau than what Rhoam had given him. After some consideration, Link knelt on the ground and scooped his hands in the water. He brought it to his lips, taking a tentative sip. After determining that the water tasted fine and seemed safe, he filled his water skin and took a deep drink of it. He topped it off once more and then stood, looking at the wall surrounding the Great Plateau. A section of it had broken away nearby, and Link decided that would do as well as anywhere else.

A few minutes later, he found himself staring out at a beautiful field with rolling hills, large trees, and a surprising number of ruins. Not to mention the very large drop. A sudden gust of wind from behind nearly made Link stumble, and he quickly took a step back, not wanting to accidentally fall off. That drop would certainly be the death of him.

He didn’t particularly think he was afraid of heights. Not really. But he was fairly certain that anyone, faced with the prospect of leaping off a giant cliff with nothing but what appeared to be a sheet stretched out by some pieces of wood, would feel apprehensive. Then again, maybe Hylians were all just madmen. He certainly couldn’t remember, either way.

Regardless, Link found himself inspecting the wall for any possible way to climb down. The wall was made of large cut stones, and he thought that he saw several potential ledges that he could rest on… but there weren’t nearly enough handholds that he could see. The king was probably right—the paraglider was likely the only way off this plateau.

It was decided, then. Link stepped closer to the ledge and did what he could to swallow his fear. Far below him was what looked like the ruins of an old outpost. Several large flagstaffs still rose, lining either side of the road far below, though no trace of the old flags that once may have flown on them remained. It seemed like as good a place as any to start his journey.

Holding his paraglider over his head, he took a deep breath and leaped off the edge of the Great Plateau.

The glider caught the air immediately, and he felt strangely light in the air. He held on tightly to the twin handholds and was amazed to see the ground far below him lazily passing by. He wasn’t just slowly falling off of the plateau—he was gliding far above the world below. The outpost ruins began to pass beneath his feet; he had already glided further north than he had expected.

At that moment, he didn’t care, however. Instead, he grinned and laughed, overcome by the sudden sense of freedom that he felt. He glided through the open air without a care, feeling like a child experiencing the joy of a new toy. A gust of wind caught him, causing his hair to flutter around his face, and the glider followed the direction of the wind.

He sailed over a small grove of trees and then spotted a ruined building in his path. It would make a good place to set down. As he passed over a broken wall, he carefully adjusted the angle of the paraglider, canceling his forward movement and slowly lowering to the ground until his feet touched solid ground.

The old, partially collapsed building’s roof had long since rotted away, and the cross beams that had once held it up were in a heap on the floor. Several old beds lined one wall, all in various states of disrepair and disarray. He thought that he must have landed in some kind of military barrack. He took a moment to examine the contents of the room, looking for anything that might have been useful to him, before determining that it was a lost cause. Whatever had once been in here had long since been picked clean.

He found the open doorway and stepped out onto a wide stone road that was partially overgrown with grass. Several more buildings like the one he’d been in lined the road, all in various states of ruin. Nearby, a fox started and darted into the underbrush beside one such building. A few birds chirped in the nearby trees; otherwise, there was only silence.

The feeling of elation that Link had felt while gliding off the Great Plateau faded, replaced, instead, with a growing sense of dread. The Temple of Time had been cut off from any possible caretakers for one hundred years. He had assumed—hoped—that was the only reason for its state of decay. But here, Link found more ruins. The outpost had been destroyed—perhaps during Ganon’s attack one hundred years ago—and never rebuilt. How bad had things been before the princess sealed the beast?

He did not linger in the outpost very long, checking a few of the buildings, but only finding scraps of equipment that had long since been exposed to the elements. He did find a few additional broken-down Guardians, which he tried to ignore.

He continued down the road, finding no other signs of life, outside of the occasional wildlife, until he came up to an old stone bridge that was, thankfully, still standing. From this vantage point, he could see some bokoblins gathered around a fire in a nearby field, as well as a much larger creature. This one was easily twice the size as one of the bokoblins, though it had some similar features. A long, pig-like snout, a single horn, and the same fashion sense consisting of wearing only a single tattered loincloth. It had long, hulking arms, and short legs.

The camp was fairly out of the way from the road, but it served as a good reminder that he wasn’t any safer now than he was earlier. He tried to keep a low profile while crossing the bridge and continued on his way, once he was certain that none of the creatures had seen him. The Dueling Peaks were still far away, and Link hoped to reach them quickly.

He made camp within the hollowed-out interior of an ancient fallen tree trunk. It looked as if it once had stood hundreds of feet tall, and easily had a circumference the size of a house. The trunk had been broken into multiple parts over the years and the one Link found himself sheltering in was at the bottom of a large hill. The pieces of the tree could be found in several places on the hill, ending with the ancient trunk at the hill’s peak. Link wondered at the age of the tree—it had to be hundreds, if not thousands of years old. How long ago had it fallen?

Before making camp, Link had climbed to the top of the hill and surveyed the surrounding landscape, looking for any signs of life around him. As far as he could see, he couldn’t see any bokoblin camps or otherwise. Finally, deciding that he was probably safe enough, he did what he could to forage some meal supplies.

He didn’t have any luck with hunting—the only rabbit he saw was scared off when he accidentally stepped on a twig, but he did find some mushrooms that he hoped were safe to eat. He also managed to find an odd trio of apple trees on another hill. Strangely enough, two of the trees only had one apple each, while the third was quite full of apples. Oddness aside, he picked several of the apples and carried his bundle down towards his campsite.

After gathering his meal and noting that the sun was beginning to set below the distant western horizon, he made a small campfire. It took some work, but there was no shortage of wood in his immediate vicinity, much of it old and ready to catch flame. He made his meal of the remaining boar meat—cooked again to hopefully prevent him from getting sick—and baked apples and mushrooms. Bland as the meal may have been, Link found himself quite satisfied and settled back against the incline of the hill, lying on his cloak.

As night fell, various insect noises picked up, and Link noted a large number of fireflies had seemingly come to life around the ancient log. “It’s beautiful out here,” he said to no one in particular. He got no response, and that seemed wrong to him somehow. He didn’t know what it was, but something was missing. He suddenly felt melancholy and… lonely. He looked to the side and saw a bare patch of ground not far from him that seemed empty. He had been the princess’ chosen knight, right? Did they travel together?

He sighed and sat up, looking at his small fire. His eyes fell on his small pile of possessions nearby, and the Sheikah Slate, in particular. He abruptly recalled the change that it had undergone on the tower—he hadn’t even looked at it since then to try to determine what the different icons meant. Reaching over, he picked it up and inspected the different icons.

Six icons spread across his screen—squares with various colored shapes within them. The first square had a blue circle within it, the second had an angled red U shape in it, the third a yellow padlock, the fourth what appeared to be a white snowflake. The fifth had a simple icon with a dashed line ending in a red X, and the sixth had a strange orange segmented cylinder.

Link touched the last one first and was surprised when, suddenly, the screen of the Sheikah Slate appeared to become translucent. He could see the fire behind it as if the Sheikah Slate’s center was made entirely of glass. His eyes widened as he found himself looking through the screen at his surroundings. After a moment, he touched another icon—a plus symbol—and, suddenly, the image on the screen magnified. He could make out the fine grain of the tree trunk around him as if he were standing inches from it and inspecting it from close. Another press of the plus symbol brought the view even closer, though the image had grown blurry and out-of-focus.

He stood and quickly hurried outside. It was dark and, therefore, difficult to make out the details of his surroundings, but it was clear that the magnification offered by the device would be incredibly useful for scouting. He angled the Slate up towards the moon and found that he was able to make out a great deal more detail on its surface than with his naked eye.

Link found that the plus symbol was no longer available to be pressed, but he spotted a minus sign directly under it. Pressing this, the magnification on the Slate returned back to normal. He grinned and continued to, well, play with this for a time, enjoying how useful it would likely prove itself to be. Eventually, he pressed a small arrow in the upper left-hand corner of the screen, which made the screen opaque and brought back the colored icons from before.

He pressed the next icon from the right, and the screen shifted once again, this time becoming a colorful overhead map. A small icon in its center seemed to indicate Link’s own location. It was incredibly detailed, showing various landmarks around him with their titles, including what appeared to be a small pond that he hadn’t even seen on his earlier scouting.

Experimenting with the various icons on this screen, Link found that he was able to zoom in on various locations, and even place a variety of his own icons and notes on the map. Amazed at the level of detail and utility that this device provided, he continued back to the original screen, inspecting the other icons.

The snowflake was his first disappointment. When he pressed this, a small message in red text flashed across the bottom of the screen. “Unable to use Cryonis rune. No body of water detected.” Considering this, he determined to try this out the next body of water that he passed.

Instead, he went to the next icon—the yellow lock icon. Pressing this changed the screen on the Sheikah Slate again. It once more became translucent, but now everything seemed to be bathed in a strange yellow light through the screen. A small cross symbol had also appeared in its center. As this cross was drawn over various objects, he found that they were highlighted with a brighter yellow light. He highlighted a small stick on the ground and pressed another lock icon on the bottom-right corner of the screen

Suddenly, a beam of yellow light shot out from the Sheikah Slate, striking the stick. At once, the stick was bathed in the same yellow light that the screen had shown, the light visible without the Sheikah Slate. Eyeing the stick curiously, Link approached it and knelt.

The yellow light pulsed faintly, illuminating the grass around it. He hesitantly reached out, touching the stick, and was surprised to find that it did not move at all from his touch. He attempted to pick it up, but it wouldn’t budge from its spot on the ground. Frowning, he pulled harder, grunting with exertion. He placed the Sheikah Slate down and tried to use both hands, though he found it to be difficult to get a good grip on it, as he could not get his fingers under the stick very easily.

Finally, he stepped back, amazed at the Sheikah Slate’s ability to seemingly freeze the stick in place. He noticed that the pulsing light had grown much quicker now. It grew quicker and quicker until, suddenly, the stick flashed with light and went flying far above into the air, spinning away into the distance.

Of course, this required much further investigation.

Sometime later, and only after he had successfully launched several more objects into the night, did he think he had a good handle on how this rune, labeled Stasis, worked. It could freeze objects, halting any and all movement, for a short period of time. However, any kinetic action, such as pulling or striking the object, appeared to be saved and all applied at once when the object was unfrozen. As a result, even multiple small pushes and taps could result in a rather large reaction.

It had limits, however. The larger and heavier an object was resulted in a much shorter period of time spent frozen.  When he attempted to use the rune on the log he was camping within, the stasis only lasted mere moments. 

It also appeared to work on living things, as he was able to freeze several of the fireflies that lit up the night around him. The acting of freezing them alone did not seem to cause any harm, though he was careful not to touch any of the frozen insects, lest he accidentally crush them.  He could also only freeze one object at a time, and could manually release objects frozen before the timer counted down by pressing the stasis button again.

Excited to see the next icon’s functionality, Link then pressed the rune labeled Magnesis. Like the Stasis rune before it, it turned the screen translucent again, but this time bathed everything in a red light. He frowned as he looked around with this screen, as the icon on the bottom-right of the screen appeared not to do anything. It wasn’t until he’d found his sword, lying by his fire, in his screen that the Sheikah Slate’s screen showed anything different.

The sword glowed red in the screen. He pressed the button, and suddenly, the Slate in his hand shuddered slightly. Something happened to the sword as well, as it suddenly shook and, when he adjusted his grip on the Slate, appeared to follow his movements. Eyes widening, he lifted the Slate above his head, and the sword followed, rising into the air as if lifted by unseen strings.

He laughed and practiced moving the sword around in the air, and it followed wherever his screen was pointed at. However, when he attempted to press some of the additional buttons available on the screen, the screen suddenly turned black and the sword fell to the ground, point sinking into the dirt. The screen turned back on a moment later, with text scrolling across the bottom. “Error—Magnesis Rune damaged. Repairs needed to restore full functionality.”

Somewhat disappointed, he continued to experiment with the rune, swinging the sword around. At one point, he got its point lodged into the old wooden log—that was when he truly understood how powerful a weapon this rune could end up being with practice.

Marveling at the Slate’s functionality, Link pressed the last icon, excited to see what would happen next. To his surprise, the screen did not turn translucent this time. Instead, something flashed on the ground in front of him. He looked down, surprised to see what appeared to be a simple, blue glowing ball sitting on the ground a few feet in front of him. He pressed the blue button again.

This was a mistake.

There was a flash of brilliant white light, and he was hit with a concussive blast that sent him flying backwards. He hit the ground some five to ten feet away, ears ringing and feeling like he’d just been hit full in the chest by a charging bull. For a moment, he couldn’t see or hear anything, the bright flash having blinded and deafened him. His chest hurt quite a bit. In fact, now that he thought about it, his entire body hurt. His vision slowly returned, but it was blurry. Slowly, with a pained groan, he rolled onto his stomach and coughed violently, trying to fight down a sudden wave of nausea.

Once his coughing fit subsided and his vision cleared, he slowly rose to his knees. Noticing that he no longer had the Sheikah Slate in his hands, he looked around and found it sitting a few feet away from him. He tried to stand, but a sudden wave of dizziness informed him that was a bad idea. Instead, he crawled over to the Slate and turned it over so its screen was facing him.

Written across its bottom in red letters was a simple message. “Warning: Standing too close to the Remote Bomb Rune explosion can result in bodily harm or death. Please be sure to stand a safe distance back and ensure no one is in danger of being injured by flying shrapnel.”

“Well,” Link said with another cough. “Maybe I should read the warning next time…” He rolled back onto his back and closed his eyes, groaning.

The next day, Link still felt quite sore but had, thankfully, escaped with only scrapes and bruises following his experimentation with the Remote Bomb rune. He had decided against doing any more testing that night, however, not wanting to attract any undue attention to his location with explosions.

When he finally awoke, the sun was well into the sky, and the air within the tree trunk was pleasantly warm. He ate a hastily put-together breakfast and gathered up his supplies before getting on the road again. As he walked down the hill, he was surprised to see a large black circle of burnt grass and dirt on the ground where the bomb had exploded the night before. Dangerous, indeed, but possibly a useful weapon. All in all, he was very satisfied by the utility offered by the Sheikah Slate, and hoped to experiment with it further later on, after his bruised ribs healed.

He grew irritated as clouds soon covered the sun, and a light, cold rain began to fall. The cloak helped for a little while, but it quickly became soaked through as well. He hoped the rain would cease quickly, but quite unfortunately, it continued for several more hours, finally abating late in the afternoon. The road Link traveled on was a muddy mess, and his soaked cloak was cold and heavy. He finally removed it after the rain stopped, though that did little to warm him. The day was cooler today than the day before, though having the sun to his back helped somewhat.

He hadn’t traveled nearly as far this day as he had the day prior, his progress slowed by the rain and mud. And, still, he saw no other travelers on the road. He did finally find himself approaching the Dueling Peaks, however.

As he approached the large split mountain, though, he also found himself drawing alongside another Sheikah Tower, this one shining orange. It was in the center of a river that flowed through the center of the Dueling Peaks and impossible to reach without going for a swim, which he didn’t find particularly palatable after the long walk in the rain that day.

Still, though, the tower bothered him. The last time he’d activated one of the towers, it had restored additional functionality to his Sheikah Slate. He wondered if this tower would do the same. It was in considering this that he recalled that there was one additional rune that he had not yet been able to test or determine its functionality. It had required being near a body of water.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, he pulled the Sheikah Slate off his belt and held it up, facing the water. He hit the snowflake button again, and this time, the screen turned translucent, highlighting the water of the flowing river with blue light. Curious, he pressed the button at the bottom-right of the screen—the same snowflake-shaped icon as before.

A sharp crack noise rang out through the air. Link jumped in surprise and watched with awe as the water at the spot where he’d been pointing the Slate at swirled around, rising up and solidifying into a cube-shaped block of ice. Ice crystals like snow appeared in the air around the cube of ice, slowly drifting down to rejoin the water still flowing around it. Strange Sheikah runes glowed on its side. Surprisingly, the pillar appeared unaffected by the flow of the river, remaining perfectly still in its flow.

Link released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It was incredible. Where before there had just been rushing water, now there stood a solid block of ice. How was this even possible? He glanced down at the Sheikah Slate and, after a moment, pressed the Cryonis rune again. The Slate was still pointed at the existing block of ice and, when he pressed it, the block suddenly cracked down the middle. It cracked again, and then broke into several large chunks of ice that were immediately carried away with the river.

Grinning, he began to experiment with this new rune. He quickly discovered that there were more options than just a single block of ice. He could create blocks of ice of varying heights and widths, indeed, creating a shallow set of stairs. There were limitations—he could only have a few blocks in existence before the earlier ones started to crack and fail. And there was a sort of time limit to the ice blocks as well—they would eventually fail on their own after several minutes. Still, though, this was going to prove incredibly useful for crossing bodies of water.

Starting, he decided, right now.

He began to create a series of small stepping stones made of ice on the river. Once he had three in place, all within easy stepping distance, he hesitantly placed a foot on the first. It didn’t bob under his weight at all, remaining solidly in place. It was slippery, however, though the surface wasn’t perfectly smooth. It felt almost as though the ice had a thin layer of snow atop it, which helped with traction to a small degree. Still, it would not be good to take this too quickly.

He cautiously moved forward and, as he created the next couple of platforms, he heard the ice blocks behind him crack and fail. It was an intimidating sound, and he felt his palms begin to sweat. He was beginning to hope this wasn’t a mistake.

Still, though, he made his way across the river. He almost fell in once as he approached a spot of a choppier flow. The additional chop caused water to splash up onto the surface of the block of ice, and he momentarily slipped, wind-milling his arms to keep himself from tumbling over into the river’s depths. After that, he began to make the ice blocks a little taller to prevent waves from splashing overtop them.

Finally, Link reached a series of large rocks at the foot of the tower. It looked as though this tower, like the one on the Great Plateau, had also burst up from the ground, displacing these stones in the process. He was very grateful to have rock underfoot again, rather than ice, but still couldn’t help but to look back at the distance he had crossed. What else could this piece of equipment accomplish?

The climb up the tower was not an easy climb, as the tower was rather tall. However, like the previous one, it had several platforms forming a spiral around its length, which served as convenient platforms upon which to rest. He reached the top and stood up, looking out the land around him. The Great Plateau was surprisingly far away—he could just barely make out its walls over the distant horizon, hazy with the distance and approaching darkness. He had progressed further than he’d truly realized.

From his vantage point, he was able to see far and wide around him. He could see several pinpricks of light that signified campfires, which he quickly investigated with his Sheikah Slate. He only felt disappointment, however, when he found the nearest campfires to belong to bokoblins and those larger creatures. They seemed to be numerous in this region. Were they simply not all as dangerous as the ones on the Plateau, or did the Hylians that remained after the Calamity just not have the means to drive them away?

That thought concerned him. He had yet, after two days of travel, to pass a single other soul on the road. Thus far, he had avoided confrontation with the bokoblins as well. The roads didn’t seem that dangerous, so where was everyone? Had Ganon’s destruction been that bad? If so, how was he supposed to make any difference?

He slowly walked around the edge of the tower, until he was facing towards the distant Hyrule castle. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Princess?” he said hesitantly. “Princess, can you… hear me?” He received no answer and exhaled slowly. “How am I supposed to do this? How was I ever expected to do this? I can’t even remember who I am—who I was.” Again, he only received silence as a reply.

He wanted to say more. He felt he should say more. But what could he say? He remained silent for a long time after before, finally, speaking again, his voice soft. “The king said I was your chosen knight… He said that you saved me, in the end. I… thank you. I wish I could remember.”

He fell silent after this and, finally, turned back to the small pedestal at the center of the tower. Like the one before, it had a stalactite-like structure of black rock over the pedestal. Link placed his Sheikah Slate down upon the indentation in its center and watched as the blue runic characters appeared on the rock above it. They gathered near its point and then the drop of blue liquid fell onto the Sheikah Slate’s surface. As this happened, the light of the tower turned blue, just like the previous tower.

Link gathered up the Sheikah Slate, but did not find any additional runes on its menu. Instead, he found simple text that read, “Sheikah Tower activated. Teleportation point activated. Error: Teleportation Rune non-functional. Detecting nearby Guardians. Error: no nearby Guardians detected.” Scowling, Link pressed his finger to the screen, which cleared away the text, revealing the same runes that had been there before.

Feeling somewhat disappointed, Link hooked the Sheikah Slate to his belt and approached the edge, facing the distant river’s shore. After considering the distance that the wind was blowing, he pulled his paraglider from the makeshift carrier that he’d made with the rope given to him by the king and unfolded it. He checked the wind direction once more, and then leaped off of the tower, floating above the river.

Once he touched down on the ground, he set out to make camp. Evening was beginning to fall, and he was confident from his scouting atop the tower that he was alone in this patch of land. His food supplies were beginning to dwindle, however, and he knew that he would need to find more food in the morning. At least he was next to a source of fresh water, however.

Finding a decent tree with which to shelter under, he set about making himself another small fire. It would be good to at least be able to properly dry his clothes as well, as they had never fully dried after the rain from earlier in the day. It wasn’t long after he had eaten another meal of baked apples and mushrooms that he settled down to sleep through the night.

That night under the tree by the river, he dreamt of a beautiful woman with shining blonde hair gazing at him from across a great distance. Her hair was pulled back away from her face and tucked behind two pointed ears. She wore a flowing white dress that reached all the way down to her ankles, where she wore simple brown leather sandals. She seemed to be trying to tell him something—he could see her lips moving—but he was unable to hear anything.

He took a step towards her, and then another, but she did not seem to get any closer. He took several more steps and, abruptly, broke into a run. In that moment, he knew he had to reach her. He had to see her, to hear her, to protect her.

Darkness fell between them, causing Link to stop abruptly. The woman was hidden from his view, but he thought he heard the faintest voice upon the wind. “Link…” it said. Gritting his teeth, he tried pressing forward into the darkness, searching out the woman. If he could just see her again…

He awoke with a start. Like water cupped in his hand, the dream quickly drained away from his memory, soon only leaving a strange sense of desperation and that single word, whispered upon the wind.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

The morning brought with it a chilly wind blowing in through the canyon between the Dueling Peaks. His cloak, now dry after sitting out next to the fire all night, was a grateful addition to Link’s wardrobe before he set out for another attempt at hunting.

The sun hadn’t quite yet risen over the Dueling Peaks, leaving the land around Link in shadow, though the sky overhead had lightened considerably. He remained crouched atop a hill not far from the river below, keeping an eye out for any movement. He wasn’t sure how long he remained there until, finally, a rabbit bounded out from its den, approaching the river. Silently, he slid an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, and drew to his cheek. Exhaling slowly, Link watched the rabbit, waiting. It paused, sniffing the air.

He loosed, sending the arrow flying through the air, directly towards the rabbit. Overhead, an eagle cried; the rabbit darted. The arrow sunk into the soft ground, exactly where the rabbit had been a split-second before. Link exhaled heavily, lowering his head. His shot had been perfect. Scowling up at the flying eagle overhead, Link seriously considered taking a shot at it, before going to retrieve his arrow. It appeared that he would have a breakfast of apples again this morning.

As he retrieved his arrow, he glanced towards the river and spotted a fish swimming lazily in the water near the shore. He considered this for a moment and then smiled. Later, as he roasted the green bass that he’d caught in the river over a fire, he decided that the Stasis rune, really, probably gave him an unfair advantage.

The wind that howled through the Dueling Peaks was bitterly cold. He could see evidence of sunlight far overhead, but felt none of its warmth while walking through the narrow canyon between two sheer rock walls. Additionally, more than once, he found himself having to walk through ankle-deep water that had washed up onto the path. At least he had a full belly, he reflected. That had certainly done much to improve his mood.

However, the sun was still high in the sky when the canyon walls began to widen and he stepped into warm sunlight. Smiling, he quickened his pace, seeing the end of the canyon up ahead. As he neared the end of the Dueling Peaks, he saw something that made his heart race. A large structure with a strange… what was that? A horse head?

It appeared to be a building with a large wooden horse head attached to its roof. It wasn’t just the sight of the strange horse-themed building that made him stop short, however. No, he supposed that it was, first, the fact that the building, with its colorful fabrics and a large pasture fence behind it, was fully intact that caused his heart to race with anticipation. And, secondly, it was the sight of people.

He looked through his Sheikah Slate just to make sure this wasn’t some other elaborate bokoblin camp, but no. He saw people milling about this strange structure. A couple of children were playing out front with a shaggy brown dog. A few stable hands were grooming a trio of horses. A man was sitting by a black pot over a sizeable fire, stirring what appeared to be some kind of stew.

The sight nearly brought tears to Link’s eyes.

His pace picked up, and he quickly walked and then even broke into a light jog, hurrying towards the single wooden bridge that he could see in the distance that crossed over the river. Before too long, he could hear the children’s laughs and the dog bark. Horses neighed and munched on oats from the trough.

As he approached, however, the children suddenly fell silent, ignoring the dog’s excited bark as it nudged a small cloth-wrapped ball towards the nearest child. The man at the cooking pot stood up, looking over at Link with distrustful eyes. One of the stable hands hurried into the building, and a few moments later, a man with a sword strapped to his waist and a leather cap on his head stepped out.

Link got the distinct impression that he was an odd sight to see. Based on the fact that he hadn’t seen any other people in the last two days, he wondered if many traveled from this side of the Dueling Peaks to the other. It probably didn’t help that he was armed. Hoping to allay any fears, he reached up and pulled his hood down, running a hand through his shaggy hair. He needed to get something to tie it up out of his face.

“Ho, stranger!” said the man with the sword. He casually set one hand upon his pommel, trying to look calm, but Link could see that he was nervous. Link kept his hands at his side, one hand still holding his unstrung bow. He couldn’t imagine that he looked that threatening, but then again, he also supposed that he hadn’t had a proper bath in over a century. His clothes were little more than dirty rags, which the day prior’s rains hadn’t done much to help.

“That’s probably far enough,” said the man as Link approached to within ten feet. “Where are ya from? Haven’t seen many new travelers in a while, especially not from beyond the Peaks. Was pretty sure I knew all the merchants that traveled that route, and ‘sides, you don’t look much like a merchant, do ya?”

Link found himself not quite knowing how to respond to that. The truth would be completely unbelievable, but what lie could he give? “I’m… traveling from out west. I’m on my way to Kakariko Village to see—”

“Out west, huh? What are ya, Gerudo? You look pretty pale, kind of short—are you a Gerudo?”

Link stammered a bit. Gerudo? Pale? Short? He didn’t have a clue what Gerudo looked like, but he was, at least, fairly confident he wasn’t one. The old king had, at least, confirmed that he was Hylian. Finally, he shook his head.

“Not Gerudo, huh? Well, where’d ya come from?” The armed man had a strange drawling accent that only seemed to grow more pronounced the more suspicious he got.

Deciding quickly that he needed to give the man some kind of answer, Link cleared his throat. “I’m not a Gerudo, but, uh… I lived with them for a time. However, I’ve been sent to… deliver a message. To Impa, of Kakariko Village.”

“Didn’t know the Sheikah were talkin’ to the Gerudo. Of course, never know what those Sheikah are up to. Bunch of mystics, they are. Real secretive. Saw one of them disappear in a puff of smoke once, I did. You ever seen somethin’ like that?”

“No, I haven’t, I—”

“Ya travelin’ alone, then? Don’t see that too often.” The man’s hand still rested comfortably on the pommel of his sword, but something seemed off about his stance. He was nervous, to be sure, but… Link found himself wondering if the man had ever truly even had any sword training. Reflectively, he reminded himself that he certainly didn’t remember ever getting any training in the sword.

“Well, yes, I—”

“Ya see any of those boboklines out there?” said the man, mispronouncing bokoblins in his strange drawl. “Hear they’ve been causing some travelers problems on the road lately.”

“Actually, yes, I came across a couple of—”

“Don’t look like ya’ve seen too much fightin’ to me. Are ya sure ya—”

“Rosso, leave the boy alone!” said a new voice. Both Link and the man named Rosso turned to see a tall woman emerging from the building, her red hair in multiple tight braids and tied back. She wasn’t only tall, but larger and rather more imposing than Rosso for that matter. She had on a simple black dress but wore a very elaborate purple and blue shawl over it. She had a golden hoop earring in each ear and several golden bangles on her wrists.

“Telma, now ya leave me well alone. You know that it’s my job to keep an eye out for any unsavory folk coming ‘round here,” said the old man, spluttering a little bit.

“And you’re doing a fine job of it,” the woman, Telma, said, smirking a little. She glanced at Link and winked before looking back at Rosso. “Now why don’t you go on and make sure the road is clear. I don’t like how brave those bokoblins in Blatchery plains have been getting lately.”

“Now, Telma, ya can’t just—”

“Ah, ah!” The woman, Telma, smiled and waggled a finger at Rosso, cutting him off. She made a shooing gesture towards him and then stepped past him, placing an arm around Link’s shoulder. “Come on, you look like haven’t had a good cup of tea in ages. I just started brewing one. Gerudo recipe, actually, so I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Telma…” Rosso spluttered, but the large woman simply ignored him, leading Link into the shelter of the building.

Inside the building, Link was surprised to find a warm, welcoming sight. Several round tables sat in the center of a large room, each with four to five stools around it. Several other people sat at the tables, eating various kinds of foods or drinking out of wooden mugs. A few watched him with suspicious eyes, but most seemed to think that if he got past Rosso, he was probably safe. Either that or they were more intimidated by Telma than Link.

In the back of the large dining room, Link saw a few additional doors. One of which, he assumed led to a kitchen, which was confirmed as a serving girl walked out with a few mugs a moment later. The other door, he thought, probably lead to rooms, if his suspicion that this was an inn was correct.

Telma led him to a table where a small silver kettle sat. She smiled over at Link and poured a fragrant tea into a mug before handing it over to him. She waved at one of the serving girls, who nodded and went to retrieve her a fresh mug. She nodded towards the cup in his hands. “Go ahead, drink. It’ll warm you up—you look a little cold. I know how cold it gets in that canyon with the wind.”

He looked at her with some uncertainty and then lifted the mug to his lips. It smelled good, though a little sharper than he would have expected. He took a sip of the tea, and then immediately began to cough and splutter, quickly setting the wooden mug down. His mouth suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Telma laughed heartily. “I didn’t think for a second that you came from the desert!” She reached over, taking the mug in her hands and lifting it to her lips. She took a long gulp of it and then lowered the mug, smacking her lips. “Nothing like a good, strong Gerudo fire brew tea to wake you up in the morning.”

Link coughed again and shook his head, still unable to speak. Finally, when he was able to speak, he cleared his throat. “What… what did you put in there? That was… not what I expected.”

“But I’ll bet you feel warmer now, don’t you?” Telma said, winking at him. And she was right—the tea, as little as he’d actually drunk, had made him immediately feel warm. “The Gerudo usually drink it at night since it gets so cold in the desert. When they aren’t getting drunk off of Noble Pursuit, anyway.”

Link nodded slowly, clearly not understanding much of what Telma was talking about. She appeared to pick up on this and chuckled warmly.

“I knew you hadn’t been with the Gerudo because, well… you’re not tall enough, I suppose. And you’re a man. Somewhat difficult to live among them with those traits.” When she saw that Link still didn’t fully understand, she raised one eyebrow. “You’ve never even seen a Gerudo, have you? Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised—they don’t often travel this far east. I do some trading out that way, though. My grandmother was Gerudo, so they tend to trade more favorably with me than other merchants. Been difficult getting out that way lately, though.

“Still, though, I wonder where you are from? You’re no Gerudo, and I doubt you’ve been staying out with the Rito. You’d be dressed a lot warmer if you had been. Don’t look much like a resident of Lurelin…”

Link didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He had the sense that any lie he tried to tell this woman would be seen through almost immediately. Could he just… tell her the truth? That he had no memories of where he’d been from, that he’d been upon the Plateau until recently?

“I…” Link cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the lingering burn that he still felt in his mouth. “I’m not really… sure.”

“You’re not sure where you’re from?” Telma said, leaning forward curiously. “You know, I feel like saying you’re a Gerudo might actually go over a little bet—”

“I don’t know where I’m from. I just… woke up a couple of days ago in the ruins up the road. I don’t remember how I got there or where I’m from.”

She was silent for a few moments, studying him. “So… you don’t know who you are—”

“I know my name is Link.”

“Okay, so your name is Link, but you don’t know where you are or where you’re from.”

“Right.”

“But…” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “You’re on your way to Kakariko Village to see Impa. You remember that much.”

Well.

“It’s… I just know that name and location somehow. I don’t know how I know. I just… do.” Yes, he thought. I should have just stuck with the Gerudo story. Much more believable.

Telma gave him a long stare, one red eyebrow raised. When he didn’t reply, she shrugged. “Then I suppose you need to get to Kakariko Village and see Impa. I don’t suppose you know how to use that sword, do you?”

“I do.”

“Well, that’s curious,” she said, a curious twinkle in her eye. “It just so happens that I was about to head out towards Kakariko Village myself. Got to do some trading in the village. It’s been a harsh winter, and I haven’t been out that way in a while. My normal guard just came down with some stomach cramps this morning—fool man shouldn’t have eaten those mushrooms—so I was looking at a delay. But if you’re good with a sword, maybe you could accompany me. Didn’t see you ride in on a horse, and Kakariko is quite the hike on foot. We can get there by nightfall by horse, though, if we start right away.”

Link felt a flood of relief and he smiled gratefully. “I’d, uh… That would be great, actually, because I don’t know… where the village is.”

“Not a Yiga, are you?” Telma asked absently, looking at her nails.

“I… what?”

“Just making sure,” Telma said before rising from her stool. “Come on, if you’re going to play caravan guard for me, then we should get going. Just need to get my horse hitched up.”

Within the hour, they were on the road. Link and Telma sat at the front of a covered wagon, which rattled along as it winded its way north away from the Dueling Peaks Stable, which was what the strange horse-headed building was called. It was a way stop for travelers and merchants venturing out into Central Hyrule.

Telma’s horse—a white and black mare that she called Louise—plodded along at a steady pace down the road. Glancing back, Link could see that her cart was piled high with wooden boxes of various shapes and sizes.

“So you’re… a merchant,” Link said, finally.

Telma glanced over at him, smiling. “Yes, I would say that I am.”

“Do you… travel west very often?” he asked, looking up at her—she was rather tall. “When I was walking on the road, I didn’t see anyone else. I didn’t know if it was just avoided, or…”

“Sometimes, but only when I’m able to pick up some more guards or in a caravan. The roads get more dangerous as you pass by Hyrule Field. Too many bokoblins and moblins laying claims to the ruins there lately.”

“Moblins?”

“The big ones.”

“Ah.”

“You must have come across some while traveling east, or at least seen some. They’ve been particularly aggressive lately near the old Gatepost Town ruins.”

“I… tried avoiding them when I could. I fought a few bokoblins,” Link said. He patted the sword on his lap, which he’d removed when he got into the cart. “That’s how I got this. That’s… actually how I got most of this, actually.” He motioned at the small bundle of items on the seat next to him, including the unstrung bow.

“You fought them unarmed?” Telma said with some surprise.

“Not… exactly,” Link said, face flushing. He needed to think a little more before speaking. “I had another sword, but it broke. In the fight.”

“I see. And did you fight any of the moblins roaming around the area?”

“No, I saw them a couple of times, but was able to avoid them.”

“Probably for the best. I once saw one of them cleave a horse clean in two. They’re butchers.”

He looked around at the passing scenery. To the west was the ridgeline that contained the Dueling Peaks, but to the east… Link was a little surprised to see evidence of old ruins. These looked far older than the ones he’d seen before. Broken arches and overgrown foundations mostly made up the ruins. Occasionally, he’d see part of a wall still standing, but it was rare.

He gave a start when he saw the distinct shape of a Guardian among the ruins. “Did the Guardians destroy this place too?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Those old machines? Not this place. It was a ruin before they ever attacked,” Telma said. She was watching him again, eyebrows knitting into a frown. “You know, for someone without any memories, you seem to know a lot.”

“I know about the Guardians,” he said, not meeting her gaze. Was it going to be like this everywhere he went? Ruined lives and broken-down machines?

Afterwards, they rode in mostly silence. Telma would occasionally make comments about a particular landmark, but Link kept mostly to himself, replying only when he had to. He couldn’t remove the image of the Guardian in the field from his mind. How many people died when the Guardians attacked? This was once a kingdom, right? Why was it that the only people he’d seen were a handful of travelers in a waystation? Why couldn’t they get enough of a fighting force to keep the roads safe? Link traveled for two days without incident—surely it wouldn’t take much to patrol those roads, would it? He’d fought several bokoblins—even several at a time—without suffering more than a scratch on his arm. They didn’t seem that smart or adept at combat—a small squad could surely clear out the camps nearest the roads and…

“This isn’t good,” Telma said, and he looked up quickly, his senses growing sharp. In the road ahead, he spotted a downed tree, which perfectly blocked their path forward. There might be room to go around it, but…

He spotted the bokoblin hiding behind the tree just in time. He pushed her to the side, just as an arrow whizzed by, sticking into a box in the wagon behind them. Telma cursed and he grabbed his bow, stringing it with practiced fingers. Another arrow landed nearby, this one sticking into the wood of the bench they sat on. He looked at her. “Keep going,” he said, his voice hard.

He stood in the wagon, nocked an arrow, and drew, finding his first target. The bokoblin behind the tree was peeking out again, taking aim. Link loosed, and his arrow flew true, striking the bokoblin in the center of its chest. Another arrow flew by and he quickly nocked another arrow, turning to see another bokoblin that was perched on half of an ancient arch. Link took careful aim, but a bump in the road caused his aim to go wide, the arrow sailing harmlessly past the bokoblin.

The bokoblin seemed startled, nonetheless, and grabbed a horn from his belt. “Oh no.” Telma said next to Link. The bokoblin blew into the horn—an angry, loud sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

The next thing Link heard was the pounding of hooves.

Ahead, from around a large rocky hill, two bokoblins rode out on horses. One bokoblin was red and wielding a spear, while the other was blue-skinned and wielded a wicked-looking club with a large spike on its end. The blue bokoblin, in particular, looked dangerous. It looked like a mass of scars all over and was missing one of its ears. It seemed that, in retribution for whatever took its ear in the past, though, that it had taken to collecting ears in a crude necklace that it wore around its neck.

Telma cursed again, sounding increasingly scared. “There aren’t supposed to be any roaming bands along the road. They must have just moved into the area in the winter!”

Link exhaled slowly and took aim again at the archer atop the arch. Take out the archer first—then focus on the mounted enemies. This one struck home, catching the bokoblin in the eye and causing it to topple backwards. Satisfied, he tried to turn his bow on the mounted bokoblins, but they were too quick. They rode past the cart in a wide arc, preparing to come back around from behind.

He dropped his bow and readied his sword and shield. The bokoblin wielding the spear came first, on Telma’s side. She yelled something that he didn’t hear, and he quickly clambered over her, just barely getting his shield up in time to block the spear from skewering Telma where she sat.

Link tried to right himself in the seat to get better leverage, but the bokoblin stabbed out once more, and again, he had to block it with his shield, which splintered. A crack appeared in its center. The next spear thrust might just go through his shield. So, when the bokoblin next thrust his spear, Link batted it to the side with his shield, nearly unseating the bokoblin in the process. The bokoblin snarled and reined his horse in, retreating.

“Link, the horse!”

He whirled around and spotted the reason for Telma’s panicked yell. The blue bokoblin had apparently decided the best way to stop them in their tracks was to attack the horse pulling the cart. It had already pulled up alongside the horse and raised its spiked club to end the poor horse’s life.

Link swore and, seeing nothing else to do, threw his sword at the bokoblin. It spun through the air and, miraculously, hit the bokoblin’s club with enough force to knock it out of the its hand. The bokoblin yelped in surprise and glared at him. It turned its horse around, presumably to retrieve its fallen weapon, but he didn’t have much time to decide his next move.

The delighted cackle behind him was the only thing that saved his life. He whirled just in time to see the other bokoblin thrusting its spear towards his back. He caught the spear with his shield again, only this time, like he’d feared, the spear split the shield in two and its point stabbed deep into his forearm. He yelled in pain, pulling his arm free. When the bokoblin attempted to finish him with another thrust, he grabbed the spear by its haft, stopping it mere inches from his chest. He felt splinters from the rough wood stab into his hands as he did so.

The creature’s expression mirrored Link’s own shock over the fact that had worked. A split second later, he ripped the spear from the bokoblin’s grasp and slammed the butt into its face. It howled in pain and toppled over backwards.

Before the horse could pull away, Link caught its reins with the haft of the spear, and managed to pull the horse a closer to the cart. He carefully transferred from the cart to the saddle of the horse, holding the spear with one hand. Once in the saddle, he grasped the reins with his free hand and slowed the horse, drawing it into a large loop around. As he did so, the cart slowed to a near stop as Telma tried to steer around the fallen log—had all of that happened in such a short period of time?

Hooves on dirt announced the return of the blue bokoblin, which had retrieved its club and rode towards the cart, weapon raised. Link drove his own horse forward, sending it into a gallop. The bokoblin didn’t seem to have noticed him coming from the side and behind, its gaze focused entirely on the horse and cart.

As it reached the cart, it made a triumphant sound, raising its club for the kill. It hesitated, though, as it appeared to notice his absence. Link released a warcry, causing the bokoblin to turn in its saddle, eyes widening in surprise. It had no time to react, and Link thrust his spear deep into its back, punching through its ribs.

The bokoblin was driven from its saddle, and Link released his grip on the spear, lest he end up on the ground, too. His horse leaped over the log in the road, which almost managed to unseat Link anyway, but he hastily grabbed the saddle horn to regain his balance. He fumbled for the reins, slowing the horse and turning back around.

He cantered back towards the cart, which Telma had pulled to a stop. She was standing in the cart, looking over its side at the fallen bokoblin that still twitched on the ground, impaled by the spear. That one was down for good, but what about the last one? Link saw it, then, rushing towards the cart. It held Link’s sword overhead and bellowed some kind of battle cry.

Link spurred his horse around the log and into a gallop straight towards the lone bokoblin. The bokoblin pulled up short, eyes widening, and dropped the sword in shock. It didn’t have time to dodge, however, and Link grimaced as his horse trampled over the bokoblin.

“Good…” Link patted his horse’s sweaty neck soothingly once they stopped. The animal frothed at the mouth, blowing heavily out of its nose, its eyes rolling. Clearly, the bokoblins had ridden the beasts hard. He dismounted, still keeping a hold on the horse’s reins and led it back to the place that the bokoblin had dropped his sword. That secure, he walked the horse back towards Telma’s cart.

Telma climbed down from her cart, looking around at him with wide eyes as he approached. “Who…” she said, her voice shaky. “Who are you?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.”

She stared at him for a long time and then seemed to shake herself, regaining some of her composure. “Well… you weren’t lying about your skill in combat. Goddess, I might even believe that you were a Gerudo after seeing that. You fight like one.”

Link wasn’t sure he was very comforted by those words and looked up at the horse whose reins he still held. It was a large horse with a brown coat and a black mane and tail. The fur around its ankles grew thicker and white. It also had a white stripe on its face, between its eyes, which were locked onto Link’s. Though it had calmed some, it still gave him a distrustful look.

He made soft hushing sounds at the horse and stepped closer, placing a hand to the side of its face, petting it gently. “Good…” He hesitated and then quickly checked. “Boy.” He began to inspect the horse more carefully and found the signs of abuse. It had several scars along its flank and neck, and the bit was clearly far too tight.

It was obvious from the style of saddle and bridle, not to mention the horse’s training, that the bokoblins had stolen this horse from someone, and he wasn’t sure if the abuse had come from them or its previous owner. Either way, Link intended to correct some of these problems, starting with the bit. He carefully removed the bit from the horse’s mouth and gently patted its nose.

“There,” he said. The horse seemed to appreciate this and moved forward, smelling his hair. He laughed softly and stepped back, scratching it behind the ears. “Hold on.” He turned and walked back to the cart, Telma all but forgotten for the moment. He returned with a pair of apples and offered one to the brown horse. The horse seemed quite eager for this and took the apple from his hand with gentle teeth.

Link turned and walked over to the other horse, which danced away from him nervously. This one was grey with brown spots. Link approached carefully, hands up in a non-threatening manner. “It’s all right…” he said in a gentle tone. The horse snorted and shuffled nervously. It was backed into a corner, however, with the cart directly behind it. “Shh…” He took another step forward, his gaze locked on the horse’s eyes.

Finally, the horse seemed to calm some, and he took the last step forward, gently taking the horse’s reins. He led it away from the cart and then proceeded to remove the bit from its mouth as well. That complete, he offered it the second apple, which it also accepted, albeit much more hesitantly than the other horse.

“I see you’re good with horses as well,” Telma said dryly.

“I suppose I am.” Link smiled as he watched the two horses eat their respective apples, feeling intense satisfaction. He was certain that the bokoblins would have eventually killed these animals. He hadn’t just managed to protect Telma, but he’d saved these horses as well.

“You’re injured!” Telma said, grasping his injured forearm, which still bled quite a bit. He winced, but allowed her to wrap it with some white cloth that she pulled from one box. Finally satisfied that his wound was dressed properly, she stepped back, smiling.

“Thanks,” Link said, rubbing his forearm painfully. That was the second wound he’d sustained to his right arm, the first being the cut in his shoulder from the arrow. Too many more of those, and he would be useless in a fight.

They remained there for some time longer as he carefully checked over each horse for injuries. He couldn’t really be sure where this knowledge came from, but he seemed to have an innate eye for horseflesh. Neither horse was in particularly bad condition, though both had signs of abuse, and the grey one was bleeding from a shallow cut on its neck. He considered releasing the grey horse, but the possibility of other bokoblins in the area concerned him. If they caught the horse, then it would just be hurt again. Telma suggested, instead, to take it to Kakariko, where it could be taken care of. She even suggested he try to see if someone might buy it off him.

Finally, once satisfied with his inspection, he carefully replaced the bits in each of their mouths and tied the grey horse to the back of the cart with a length of rope. He then mounted the brown horse, patting its neck gently. Telma smiled over at him from the cart and nodded before clicking her tongue and getting her cart underway. Link rode alongside the cart, feeling far better now than earlier. Being in the saddle felt right, and the horse seemed to have taken a liking to him as well.

He supposed he would have to think of a good name for his new companion.

They arrived in Kakariko Village after the sun had set over the western horizon. They’d traveled most of the rest of the day through a twisting pass that winded through and up multiple hills. He and Telma both rode in relative quiet—he on his horse, which he named Spirit, and her in her cart.

As the sky darkened overhead, Telma hung a lantern off the front of her cart, which provided enough light to illuminate the rock walls around them. He knew that they were nearing the village when they began pass under large wooden arches bearing the same eye symbol as was on his Sheikah Slate.

Finally, after rounding a final bend in the road, Kakariko Village came into view. The expansive town was located in a lush valley, where it had been split into multiple tiers. The uppermost tiers contained a great deal of farm land, where Link spotted several farmers still out working their farms by the light of large paper lanterns and the large full moon rising over the hills to the east. The spring planting season seemed to be in full swing, and Link saw many men, women, and children in the fields. They all wore similar white and red clothing and many of them had on strange curved hats.

The buildings in the village were all made of wood with thatched roofs that were fashioned into domes and arches, rather than peaked corners. Most of the roofs also had large, bowed pieces of wood that Link assumed helped form the roof’s structure.

Most of the buildings in the village followed this style of construction, except for one large one at the very bottom tier. This final building was situated on a raised island in the center of a small lake that several waterfalls fed into. It had at least two stories and featured a roof made of much sharper angles than the others. Link immediately suspected that he would find Impa there, which Telma confirmed.

As they made their way down the winding path, Link noticed multiple villagers, mostly consisting of children, falling into line behind Telma’s cart. Other villagers called out to her in greeting or asking if she had certain items, and she replied in warm, boisterous tones. It was clear that she was a welcome sight to see. He recalled what she’d said about the harsh winter and wondered if she was the first merchant to make their way to the village with the spring thaw. He supposed that winter isolated the village a great deal.

“Hey, Telma, who is your new guard?” one villager—a middle-aged woman with white hair—said. “I like him—he’s pretty!”

Link sat bolt upright and looked around quickly, feeling his face flush. That’s when he noticed a group of women, all young-looking, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties, looking at him and talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. They all had similar white or grey hair—perhaps that was just a common trait of the Sheikah? One of them waved at him. He decided to keep his eyes forward after that.

They finally pulled to a stop at what appeared to be a town square of sorts. The large house surrounded by waterfalls sat at one end of it, a rope bridge leading up to its door, and he noticed that opposite the house was a shrine containing another one of the goddess statues that he first saw in the Temple of Time. This statue was on a small island in the center of a pond, with a wooden bridge leading to it. He could see some kind of colorful fish that he didn’t recognize swimming in the pond.

As he dismounted, one of the two older Sheikah men standing guard by the bridge to the large house approached him, holding a lantern. “You look like you’ve seen combat,” the man said, nodding towards Link’s wrapped arm. Link glanced down at it, noting that some blood had begun to seep through the white cloth.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Cado,” Telma said from upon her cart. “We were attacked by some bokoblins while passing by the Ash Swamp. Link here took care of them for me, though. Don’t think they’ll be bothering any more travelers on that stretch of road.” She winked at Link.

“How many were there?” the man, Cado, asked, frowning.

“Four, I think. They tried setting an ambush—almost had us, too, but who knew that the traveler I picked up at the stable would be so handy in a fight?” Telma’s voice had a strange air to it. Link picked up on a tenseness that hadn’t been there before.

Cado grunted, studying Link with discerning eyes. “A traveler? And a stranger, at that. Where do you hail from?”

“He says he’s here to see Impa,” Telma said.

Cado took a step back, his expression growing suspicious. Link noticed the other guard stepping up as well, hand on the hilt of a long, curved blade strapped to his waist. Link sighed, having hoped that he was past suspicion after saving Telma. It would seem, however, that his combat abilities only made him more untrustworthy.

“I will repeat my question, traveler,” Cado said. His voice was steady, but his eyes had grown much more alert. “Where do you hail from?”

“I—” Link began, but was suddenly cut off by the other guard next to Cado.

“Cado, look—on his hip.” The guard pointed at Link, specifically at the Sheikah Slate still strapped to his belt.

“That…” Cado began, but then his eyes widened. He stood up straighter and looked at his companion. “Dorian, go tell Lady Impa.” The other man, Dorian, turned and hurried up the wooden bridge towards the large house. Oddly, his footfalls made no sound on the wood.

Cado turned back towards Link and now he seemed… nervous? “I apologize for my suspicion. Lately, there have been increasing reports of Yiga activity in the area, and after what happened to Dorian’s wife… Well. We must be careful.”

“Huh,” Telma said behind Link. “After that display back there, I really thought that you might be a Yiga in disguise…”

“This man is most certainly not a member of the Yiga Clan.” Cado stood up straighter, beaming. “The device on his hip could only belong to one man—the ancient Hero of Hyrule.” He fixed his gaze on Link, and shockingly, there were tears at the corners of the man’s eyes. “Lady Impa has spoken of your return for many years, and for you to come now… It is an honor, Sir Link.” He placed his free hand to his stomach and bowed deeply at his waist.

Sudden dread filled the pit of Link’s stomach, and he wished he were anywhere but here, in Kakariko Village. He didn’t want to feel the eyes of Telma, Cado, and a multitude of other Sheikah who had overheard this conversation, on him. He could hear their whispers and caught glimpses of several pointing at him. Worse yet, he saw many of the Sheikah mimicking Cado’s deep bow.

Above the door to the large house slid open, and Dorian stepped out, followed by two women. One was youthful, tall and slender, and bore a curious expression. The other was short and much older, wearing a conical hat that flared out with a wide brim. The Sheikah symbol was featured prominently on the hat. She walked while leaning on a walking stick. Even at this distance, Link could feel her eyes boring into him. The whispers around him grew silent. Finally, the woman spoke. “Come on up here, boy!”

Exhaling slowly and refusing to look at any of the gathered Sheikah, Link walked past Cado, who backed away from him reverently, and began up the bridge towards the elderly woman. The whispers among the crowd behind him resumed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

The room that Link entered was dimly lit by paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling support beams. The walls were adorned with various paintings and tapestries, many of which featured the ancient Sheikah Eye. Down the center of the room was a long, dark blue rug, and small, square pillows lined it on either side, forming neat rows that all seemed to face the central dais, which was situated at the opposite end of the room. The Sheikah elder sat upon a stack of pillows on this dais, underneath a large, brass eye hanging from the ceiling.

He slowly stepped forward, noticing that the younger woman, who had long white hair pulled up into a heart-shaped top knot, while the rest flowed down around her shoulders, stood off to the side of the dais. Her hands were clasped anxiously. She seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at him, but he saw her sneaking a quick glance before averting her eyes again.

He slowly approached the old woman, whom he assumed was the Impa that he sought. She looked… ancient. Her face and hands—the only parts of her body visible to Link under her traditional Sheikah garb—were heavily wrinkled and showed multiple age spots, and she had walked with a bow to her back, leaning heavily on her cane.

“So…” Impa said, her lips curling into a smile that revealed several missing teeth. She looked up at Link, fixing him with kindly grey eyes. “You’re finally awake.” He was able to see the purple Sheikah Eye tattooed on her forehead now. “It has been quite some time, Link.”

Hearing his name again sent his heart racing, again driving home the truth of everything he’d been told by the king and princess. He was Link. And he had a purpose set before him so vast that he couldn’t even begin to fathom being successful in it. He wished he’d taken more time to prepare himself for this meeting.

Finally, he hesitantly approached and knelt on the ground before her so that he could look into her eyes better, which made her smile wider, the wrinkles at her eyes becoming more pronounced. “You are… Impa?” he said, his voice soft.

Her smile faded some. “I am much older now, of course, but…” She gave him a piercing look. “Do you remember me?” Link’s eyes fell to the ground, and he gave a small shake of his head. Impa sighed softly, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Do you have any memories of before?”

He grimaced and began to shake his head again, before looking down at his clenched fists. “It feels as though my body remembers—the sword feels natural in my hand, and when I fight…” He trailed off, thinking of the way he dealt out death with apparent ease. “But I have no memories of… before.”

“That may, perhaps, be a blessing in disguise.” He looked back up at her in surprise. “I’m not sure that many people would like to remember the moment of their death.”

Link felt a chill run down his spine. “I… died?”

“No, but close enough to it,” she said. “You defended Princess Zelda until you could stand no longer. After that, she used her holy powers to protect you long enough to have you placed in a sacred slumber.”

“The Shrine of Resurrection.”

“Yes! So you know what that is, then—good. After you were placed in the Shrine, she went—alone—to face Ganon. Before she went, however, the princess entrusted me with the task of guiding you when you woke. She had—has—a plan to defeat Ganon, and she believed that you will play a critical role in that plan.

“I have been waiting one hundred years, Link. One hundred years and I have kept the princess’ message, telling no one of her intent, lest we lose the element of surprise.”

“Y-you told me, Grandmother,” the younger woman piped up. Her voice trembled, as if she was nervous to speak.

“Well, yes, I told you and your mother before you, child,” Impa said, exasperation bleeding into her voice. “I would not risk losing such important information when the future of Hyrule depends on it. But I have kept it within our family. Now… go. I wish to speak to Link alone.”

The younger woman blushed furiously and stammered. “I-I thought that I would… Right!” She quickly turned and hurried away. Link noted that she did not go outside, though, but instead, hurried up the stairs beside the central dais.

“Now where was I? My old memory just isn’t what it used to be,” Impa said. When Link looked at her, a little startled by this revelation, she grinned. That grin faded after a moment, however, and her expression became grave. “Before I go any further, I know that you must have many questions, and you are likely not at all sure of your place in all of this. It does not give me any pleasure to admit to you that I am about to place more burden upon your shoulders. If you wish to rest after your journey, this can wait until the morning. I have already waited one hundred years, after all—what is one more night?”

Link considered this offer, glancing down at the blue patterned carpet. He saw that it was stylized with the Sheikah Eye, though these eyes were more diamond-shaped than the others he’d seen. Finally, he looked up. “I met King Rhoam on the Great Plateau.” Impa’s eyes widened. “He… asked me to save his daughter.”

“And is that your intent?”

“I… yes. I was—am—her appointed knight. It’s my duty.”

Impa smiled warmly and slapped her knees. “Not a memory to your name, yet you are as intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and duty on your side. You have not changed a bit, young man. Once a hero, always a hero, it seems.”

He felt his face flush. He certainly did not feel like a hero. He had to do this. He felt he owed a debt. The princess had apparently saved his life, after all. How could he not try to save hers, in turn, even if deep down, he feared that it would be a fruitless gesture?

“Very well,” Impa said, growing serious once again. “Why don’t you tell me what the old king told you, and I will do what I can to fill in the gaps. Then we shall discuss the princess’ task entrusted to you and you alone.”

Link recounted the tale given to him by King Rhoam, and Impa nodded thoughtfully before telling her own version of the events in a much more practiced air than the king used. She told him of the countless times throughout history that Ganon had been revived or broken free of his bonds, and the equal number of times that the princess who carried the blood of the Goddess, and the hero, wielding a powerful sword of legend, fought back against Ganon, sealing him once again.

She revealed a tapestry on the wall behind her. It showed a creature not unlike the beast that flew around Hyrule Castle, surrounded on either side by a man wielding a blue sword and a woman dressed in yellow, as well as hundreds of what appeared to be Guardians. In each of the four corners was another creature, each shaped like a different animal—an eagle, a salamander, an elephant, and a camel—and riding each of these animals was another being, indistinct in its features.

She told him of the conflict against Ganon 10,000 years prior, when her ancestors, at the peak of their advanced technology, had created the Guardians and the four Divine Beasts. The Guardians had protected the hero and princess, while the four Divine Beasts attacked Ganon, weakening him greatly. The hero struck Ganon down, and the princess, using her goddess powers, sealed Ganon away again.

“One hundred years ago,” Impa continued, her voice softening. “We strove to follow in our ancestors’ wake. A prophecy foretold the return of Ganon, so we sought out the Guardians and Divine Beasts of old. We spent years researching and planning, yet… Despite it all, we underestimated Ganon’s power and cunning.”

Link knew what had come next. Ganon had taken control of the Divine Beasts and the Guardians, turning them against him and Princess Zelda, and massacring the citizens of Hyrule along the way.

“If Ganon is so powerful… how am I supposed to defeat him?”

“That is where the princess’ plan comes into play,” Impa said, her eyes narrowing some. “Princess Zelda believes that it might still be possible to free the Divine Beasts from Ganon’s control.” Link’s heart began to sink as she continued. “So her final wish before leaving to seal Ganon was for you, when you awoke, to go to the Divine Beasts and free them of Ganon’s malice.”

“I see.”

“It would be ill-advised to try to face Ganon now, as you are, without the Master Sword, and without the assistance of the Divine Beasts. It has already proven ready for such an attack and I fear it will just turn all of his machines against you again if you try.”

Impa frowned and seemed to take pity on him, her voice softening. “I am not sure what the princess saw when her powers awakened. She seemed to be more aware of what had happened. I believe that the Goddess revealed some things to her. Perhaps she could even see into the future. Whatever she saw, she believed in you, Link. She believed that you would be able to cleanse the Divine Beasts and restore them to their original functionality.”

Link remained silent, considering this. Perhaps the princess had believed him capable, but could she have known he would lose his memories in the process?

“Oh, she knew that it was a possibility, Link,” Impa said after he brought this concern up to her. She slowly rose from her pillow seat, making her way down off the dais with careful steps. She walked to Link’s kneeling form and placed a hand against his shoulder. “And she hoped that you would eventually recover your memories. But even without your memories, she still believed that you would be our best hope to defeat Ganon once and for all.”

“But… why? Why me? Why was I chosen?”

“Because you are the only one who can.”

He fell silent once again, disturbed by that statement. If he was the only hope for Hyrule, then he feared the nation was doomed indeed.

“Princess Zelda hoped that the images that she left on the Sheikah Slate might help you recall some of your memories. Have you… had a chance to look at them yet?”

He frowned up at the old woman. “Images?” He reached down to his belt, unhooking the Sheikah Slate. He held it out to Impa at her insistence, who took it and frowned, her fingers tapping the screen. “Don’t hit the blue one,” Link warned, suddenly worried that she might destroy her house by accident.

Impa glanced at him, one eyebrow quirked curiously. After a moment, though, she frowned and looked back down at the Sheikah Slate. “The camera is not here… I don’t understand. When she used this, it and the map were the only runes available. Now, there are many more runes, yet no…” She sighed and looked at Link.

“I used it to activate the Sheikah Tower, and those appeared.”

She considered this information for a time before nodding slowly. “Perhaps my sister, Purah, might be of some assistance.”

Her fingers flicked across the screen rapidly until, finally, she turned it around to show him. It showed the map, and he could clearly see the icon that indicated his currently location. Impa had added another marker, however, some distance away, to the southeast. It was probably at least a day or two’s journey, by his estimation, though his understanding of the map’s scale wasn’t exact.

“Purah, lives here, in Hateno Village. She’s dedicated her life to studying ancient Sheikah technology—the Sheikah Slate and its runes, in particular—and it is possible that she may be able to restore some additional functionality to your Sheikah Slate.”

He took the Sheikah Slate from Impa, frowning down at the blinking yellow icon that she had added. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to start towards the Divine Beasts?”

She smiled faintly and placed her hand on the Sheikah Slate. “Link. This device is a treasure and will likely be a valuable tool for you on your journey. And I happen to know that, in this device, the princess worked to ensure you would have a place to start from when recovering your memories.

“If you wish to continue on towards the nearest Divine Beast, I will not stop you. I might even commend you for your dedication. But we need to do everything we can to be prepared. Repairing this Sheikah Slate could ultimately prove invaluable.” Impa paused, considering. “Besides, it may be good for you to visit Hateno Village, anyway.”

He gazed at her for several moments, but she did not elaborate further. He looked back at the yellow dot on his map and, finally, nodded. He stood, clipping the Sheikah Slate to his belt. “I’ll go there first, then.”

“I don’t mean start towards the village now, you foolish boy!” she exclaimed, eyes widening. “By the gods above, you look like you’re about to fall over where stand. Honestly, one hundred years, and you haven’t changed in the slightest… I’d like to think I’ve gotten wiser with my years.” Impa took his arm and pulled him back down into a seated position. “Paya! I know you’re listening up there. Make us some tea.”

“It’s not… Gerudo tea, is it?” Link said, feeling a sudden rush of heat in the back of his throat.

Impa gave him a strange look before shaking her head. “No. Now, tell me all that has happened to you since you woke.”

The next morning, Link emerged from the village inn, feeling far more refreshed than he had the day before. With some help from Cado, he had been able to bathe, and Cado allowed him to wear one of his Sheikah robes after the bath while Paya had been instructed to wash his clothing. He had tied his hair back into a tail with some blue twine, leaving his bangs to hang down, framing his face.

His wounds sustained during his battles had been inspected by a man that claimed to be the village healer. His forearm had been covered with some foul-smelling salve then was wrapped in a new piece of cloth. His new horse had also been cared for, fed and watered while he was speaking with Impa.

When he walked out of the inn, he found himself feeling strangely content as he observed the bustle of the busy farming village. A young boy hurried by, carting manure in a wheelbarrow, and up the hill, an ox bayed as it pulled a plow across a field. A young Sheikah child—a little girl—ran past Link, laughing and calling for her sister to catch her. Another child, a few years older and presumably her sister, chased after her. As he glanced around, he spotted the town’s fletcher—a woman in her middle years—standing near the doorway of the building next door. She smiled warmly at him and winked.

Link cleared his throat, turning away quickly. He saw Telma busying herself with her cart, tying supplies down. From what he could see, it looked as though she’d done fairly well in selling through many of the supplies that she’d brought, as well as picking up plenty of new wares to sell elsewhere. When she saw him approaching, she stood up straight and smiled broadly at him.

“Link! I’m glad you’re here—I have some things to give you.” She got down from her cart and waved him over. “I never really thanked you properly for saving my life back there, so I found some things that I thought you might need on your journey.”

She had gathered a small pile of supplies, laying them out in a line on the back of her cart. His eyes widened as he took in what lay before him. There was a new tunic, red with white and green accents, along with several long-sleeved shirts. He also saw new tan trousers and a pair of boots and stockings, along with a dark blue hood with a short cape. She also found various pieces of leather armor—a pair of leather vambraces, a shoulder guard, and a chest guard. Amazingly, there was a bow in the style wielded by the Sheikah, and a quiver full of arrows. Finally, rounding out the treasure trove of gifts was a new wooden shield emblazoned with the Sheikah Eye.

“Telma, you didn’t… This is too much.” He looked at her, eyes wide.

She snorted and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you hadn’t been there, then I would have never survived that journey. You saved my life, and besides… from what I’ve heard since arriving here, you may save all of our lives again by the end of your journey.” She squeezed his shoulder tightly. “This is the least I can do. I wish I could do even more.”

“I…” He felt a lump form in his throat, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. Did she truly think he could save Hyrule? He barely survived against four bokoblins—how was he supposed to destroy Ganon? He did not correct her, however, and finally nodded. “Thank you.”

“Oh, I traded that other horse. I didn’t think you would mind.” She nodded towards the small stable, where Spirit was being saddled with a new saddle and bridle. “I was able to get some new traveling gear and provisions for you.” Link saw that Spirit’s saddle now had full saddlebags, with cooking supplies and a bedroll tied down.

Before he could formulate another response, she drew Link into a tight embrace. “I’m going to be heading back out of the village within the hour. Would you like to travel back with me? I spoke to Impa and she told me that you would be heading east to Hateno, so you will be heading in the same direction.”

“Yes, of course.” Link cleared his throat again and nodded. “I’ll get things ready.”

An hour later, Link sat atop Spirit, feeling awkward once again as what seemed like the entire village turned out to see him off. He was dressed in his new tunic, which fit far better than the old shirt and trousers he’d been wearing earlier. He was grateful to find that the new pieces of armor had a place for his shield on his back, and he was able to strap his new bow to the saddle as well. All in all, he expected that traveling would prove easier now than it had been.

He looked back towards Impa and saw her give a small nod. Next to her, Paya waved before blushing and clasping her hands against her chest. Nodding in return, Link fixed his eyes forward and spurred Spirit into motion, riding out in front of Telma’s cart. He tried to ignore the calls of encouragement from the gathered Sheikah as he rode out and was quite grateful when they entered the pass, leaving the village behind.

The ride back to the Dueling Peak Stable went by peacefully. They stopped for lunch and to rest the horses in the afternoon, after they cleared the pass leading away from Kakariko Village. After lunch, they got back onto the road, though Link scouted the road ahead of Telma. Thankfully, no bokoblins accosted them on this trip, and they made their way back to the stable by the time the sun had fallen behind the Dueling Peaks, plunging the valley into shadow.

By the time they got back, it was clear that the horses were feeling exhausted from two days of riding such distances. Telma offered to pay to board and feed Link’s horse for the night, which he gratefully accepted. She had also helped him determine how much each of the colored gems in his bag was worth, so he was able to pay for a bed without embarrassing himself.

Not wishing to be interrogated by any other old guards—or to hear Telma telling of his exploits to anyone who would listen after she bought some drinks—he took his meal back to the room that housed his bed. The day’s riding had left him sore and weary, and he was eager to get some rest.

Rest did not come easily that night, however, plagued as he was with thoughts of his past failure. It didn’t seem right that he should feel such shame for an event that he had no memory of, yet it was inescapable. So many people had already placed such faith in him, even waiting for one hundred years for his return, and he felt no true confidence that he could succeed. But how could he tell them that? He would try, of course. How could he not? But, deep down, he felt certain his journey would end in failure.

He awoke with a start when he heard a cucco crow outside. Early dawn light had begun to filter in through the window slats in the room, and he saw that several of the other beds were still occupied by sleeping men who would likely be nursing hangovers when they awoke. Moving as silently as he could, Link rose and gathered up his belongings.

When he reached the large dining room, he found that he wasn’t the only one awake, but those that were awake did not seem very keen on talking. He was perfectly fine with this and made his way up to the counter in the center of the room.

He paid for a breakfast of eggs, sausage, and cheese and requested that Spirit be prepared for his departure. After eating his breakfast, he stepped out into the cool morning air, and was surprised to see Telma already inspecting her goods for departure, along with another man that he assumed to be her normal guard.

“Already hurrying out?” she said when she saw him. He nodded and she smiled. Telma stepped over to him, placing a hand around his shoulder, leading him away from her guard. “I know you’ve got a long journey ahead of you. Know that I have said nothing of who you truly are—I am quite capable of keeping a secret.”

He felt an immense relief at these words and thanked her. At least he would not have to worry about feeling those eyes upon him as he was leaving the stable.

“Link,” She stopped and turned towards him with a grave expression on her face. “I don’t know everything that Impa told you, but you are the master of your destiny. I can’t imagine what it must be like in your position, and the pressure you are feeling is probably overwhelming. I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you decided to take a different path.”

He met her eyes and then looked down. “If not me, then who?”

She squeezed his shoulder firmly. “I don’t know. But we’ve survived this long. I am sure we will find a way to survive still.”

Survive? Was this surviving? The last of the Hylians seemed to occupy a small corner of Hyrule, as did each of the other races from what Link had been able to gather. In the meantime, the largest, lushest portion of the nation was slowly being taken over by malicious forces, and those forces were expanding.

He took a deep breath, hardening his resolve, and met the woman’s eyes again. “Thank you, but… I don’t think I could forgive myself for turning my back now. I was… given a second chance. I’ll do what I can.”

Telma smiled warmly, and he could tell she was pleased with his answer. “Good man.” She patted his shoulder heavily. “Take care of yourself, Link. I’m sure that we will cross paths again someday in the future.”

They parted ways after that. Telma headed west, explaining that the only road leading to the Zora’s Domain passable by cart was on the other side of the Dueling Peaks. He expressed concern over her journey, but she waved it off and told him that that road was still fairly secure to ensure trade did not falter. Her tone held an edge to it, though, that suggested she was still concerned. The road to the Sheikah village was supposed to be kept safe as well.

Link, meanwhile, rode north on the road until it forked to the east. The eastern road winded around the north side of the large, swampy field where Link had seen the ruins and Guardians the day before. Spirit seemed to be well-rested and Link allowed him to alternate between walking and trotting. As a result, he made fairly good time, moving at a quicker pace than he’d been able to while traveling alongside Telma’s cart.

He stopped to rest around midday, when the sun was overhead. He sat down with his back against a large, broken stump next to the road and ate a meal of dried fruit and carrots. After he finished eating, he removed his Sheikah Slate.

Impa had told him that the princess had attempted to prepare the Sheikah Slate in such a way that she hoped it would spark some memories… What exactly had she meant by that? He examined the icons available on the screen, considering them.

Finally, he sighed and rose, wincing. He wasn’t sure of how he traveled one hundred years ago, but it was clear that his body now was not used to traveling so much in the saddle. After two days of horse travel, his legs and backside ached. With Hateno being another two days away, he sincerely hoped to be able to stay there at least a few days before getting back on the road.

He looked over at Spirit, who placidly ate some grass, and decided that the horse would be fine for a few minutes. He stepped further away and lifted the Sheikah Slate, inspecting it. Finally, he pressed the blue Remote Bomb rune.

Again, the glowing blue ball appeared on the ground in front of him. Careful not to press the button a second time by accident, he knelt, inspecting the explosive device. He reached out with a hesitant finger, touching it, and found it to be quite solid. He placed the Slate down on the ground and picked the bomb up, hefting it in his hands. It was not extremely heavy, but it had a definite weight to it.

After turning it over in his hands for a few seconds, he looked down the hill he was standing on, making sure there were no people around, and threw it. The bomb sailed through the air and then hit the ground. It did not explode, but simply continued to roll down the hill, picking up speed as it went.

Link picked back up his Sheikah Slate and pressed the blue bomb rune again. Distantly, the bomb exploded in a flash of blue light and with an audible crack that rang out through the air. A flock of large pink birds nearby took flight, squawking angrily. Nearby, on a rocky shelf, a horned mountain goat bayed. Spirit snorted anxiously. Where the bomb had been, there was now a black circle of scorched grass and earth.

He decided that this rune would, in fact, be useful in certain situations—as long as he was very deliberate with its use. Otherwise he would be just as likely to harm himself as anyone or thing else. Satisfied, Link hooked the Sheikah Slate back to his belt and gazed out at the field below.

It had been a killing field. Dozens of broken Guardians littered the area. Some of them were little more than their cylindrical bodies, while others still had all six legs and looked ready to start moving again. Some had partially climbed onto pieces of broken buildings, while others lay on their sides, half-covered by moss.

What had happened here? Why had so many gathered in this place, and how had they all broken down? Neither the king, nor Impa, had mentioned how the Guardians had been defeated. He felt slightly more hopeful at the thought—the last time they had fought Ganon, they had to contend with these things, right? But if they’d been defeated, then Ganon would be lacking a very powerful weapon that he had before. He wasn’t sure how much it was, but it was something. At least, he hoped so.

It was late in the afternoon when Link reached a massive stone wall, which he had been told was called Fort Hateno. The closer he got to the fort, the more he began to dread his arrival. Guardians. Guardians were everywhere. They had clearly been to the point of climbing over each other to reach the fort when whatever had destroyed them had been used. But even though they were inert now, the sheer number of them that had closed in on Fort Hateno were terrifying. He could only imagine what it must have been like for the defenders here as they watched dozens of the metal beasts crossing the marshy field, closing in.

The fort, itself, didn’t even look finished. While some sections of it were made of brick and mortar, other sections had been constructed of hastily placed stones and even wood, which had mostly rotted and collapsed in the last one hundred years. The wall had been erected in the canyon between two sheer cliff faces, and extended for several miles, even crossing a lazily flowing river to the south. Beyond the wall, the canyon continued, with cliffs, plateaus, bluffs, and even a distant mountain.

Eager to get away from the mass of Guardians, he rode Spirit under the rusted iron portcullis and into what appeared to be a peaceful forest. He glanced back through the fort’s gate, still able to see several Guardians that appeared to have been frozen in motion, much like Link’s Stasis Rune froze objects in place. They would have destroyed this forest, if they had gotten through. Shuddering, he fixed his gaze ahead and continued on.

He finally set up camp that night some distance past the fort. He had followed the river as it winded around and under a large bluff. Occasionally, he passed some other travelers on the road, who assured him that he was on the right path, but that he still had at least a full day’s journey ahead of him.

“I don’t know if I would camp here,” said one such traveler—an older man—as he rode past where Link had dismounted. “They say restless spirits inhabit this place. Soldiers killed in an ancient war thousands of years ago.” He motioned across the road to a break in the ridge, where a small valley had formed in the shadow of the rocky hills. Among the sparse trees and grass, Link could see the shapes of dozens of grave markers.

Link thanked the man for his information but made no indication of moving on. He was tired, as was Spirit. They had traveled enough for one day. The old man moved on, having said all that he wanted to say, and Link continued on making his camp.

Later that night, as he made camp for a second time under the light of the moon and stars, he told himself that he hadn’t seen shadowy figures moving among the grave markers, and he most definitely hadn’t seen a pair of violet eyes staring out at him in the darkness.

He ultimately camped near the place that the road to Hateno split. One path continued its easterly route while the other led south, looping around a nearby lake. There was a Sheikah Tower in the direction of this southerly path, but he decided to continue moving east in the morning. If he felt so inclined, he would activate the tower on his way back—assuming he could figure out what use they served. Perhaps this Purah would know better.

As he made camp that night, using the supplies that Telma had given him to craft a simple lean-to, he was struck that his added companion of Spirit still did not quite satisfy the sense in his heart that something was missing. Once again, he attempted to reach out to the princess, hoping for some kind of reply. She had spoken to him when he woke—several times. However, like before on the tower, he received no response.

He truly hoped that her hesitance to speak now was not indicative of her own powers weakening. Dire thoughts of what would happen if he failed to complete his journey quickly enough plagued his thoughts as he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

The next day brought with it a torrential downpour. Lightning forked across the sky and thunder rumbled. The road Link traveled on quickly was thick with mud, causing Spirit’s hooves to stick and suck with every step. Link wore both the hood given to him by Telma, as well as his full cloak, yet it did little to block the rain. Spirit plodded slowly, their path beginning to take them ever higher, and it became apparent to Link that his trip to Hateno Village would almost certainly be delayed by a day.

Still, he did what he could to press on. He rode parallel to the river for a time before it angled away from him and he found himself riding down into a valley. He was surprised to see what appeared to be the remains of an old horse track just south of the road he was on. In the center of the muddy track were several old buildings, most of which had collapsed over the years, but there remained a few that stood. He dismounted, boots squelching in the mud, and took hold of Spirit’s halter to lead him towards the old track.

As he crossed path a broken gate, he saw a sign that said “Equestrian Riding Course and Training Center.” Interested, he glanced back up at Spirit and met the large horse’s eyes. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that his horse did not seem too terribly impressed. Deciding that, perhaps, he’d already been traveling alone for too long, he continued towards the building in the center of the camp that appeared still standing.

As he approached, he noticed an orange glow coming from one of the windows—someone had already apparently taken shelter from the storm within it. Link hesitated as he neared the door—did he wish to disturb whoever was in there? Another thunder crash and heavier rainfall gave him his answer. he knocked on the door.

After a few moments, he knocked again.

When he received no answer after the second series of knocks, he sighed and opened the door. It swung slowly open on rusty wooden hinges. “Hello,” he said as he looked into the single-room building. “I wished to see if I could…”

He fell silent. Staring back at him from within the building were not was not a huddled group of Hylians. Instead, a group of bokoblins and two of the larger moblins had gathered around a raging fire that was already likely too large for the meager fireplace. One of the moblins stood and held a long, rusted blade, and two of the bokoblins were running to grab their respective weapons from a nearby wall, which in this case, seemed to be a pair of pitchforks.

Swearing loudly, Link took several steps back, pulling Spirit back from the house. The thunder seemed to rumble in time with his hammering heart. He quickly pulled his cloak from him, throwing it over Spirit’s saddle, and slapped the horse’s rump, sending him trotting away. Link pulled his sword from his sheathe and waited for the creatures to come out after him.

The moblin stepped into the doorway, just out of the rain, and roared at him in a loud, threatening tone. It held its sword lazily, its tip against the wooden floor of the cabin. Behind it, Link could see the two bokoblins armed with pitchforks lifting their weapons over their heads and calling out after him. Despite their threatening postures and, presumably, equally threatening words, none of the monsters left the dry warmth of the cabin.

He continued to slowly back away, watching the monsters in the doorway warily while keeping his eyes out to the sides for potential ambushes. No ambushes came, however, and he soon reached Spirit, who snorted at him in irritation. The moblin roared at him once again and pounded a meaty fist into its chest. A warning, he thought.

Sighing, he mounted Spirit and spurred him into motion. The horse responded with the same plodding walk that he had been using all day, clearly as unhappy with their current predicament as Link was. Behind them, the door to the cabin slam shut with a muted thud.

Link was in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

The rain did eventually break around nightfall, but the night brought no relief from the chill that had soaked into his bones. When they reached the forest that stood only a few hours outside of Hateno Village, Spirit simply refused to go any further, snorting when Link tried to keep him moving. He had thought to try to keep walking to Hateno, but his horse made it clear that was not to be this night.

Later, after he was finished cursing the stubborn horse, and he had built up a weak fire from what little semi-dry wood he was able to find, Link reflected that it would probably be better to ride into town during the day. Riding into Kakariko Village at night had nearly gone very poorly for him, after all. He did make one last grumbled curse towards Spirit before rolling over and attempting to get some sleep while lying on a wet and cold cloak.

A scream woke Link from his slumber early the next morning. The sun had only begun to lighten the sky overhead, and a cool fog had settled around Link in the forest. His little fire had long since sputtered out, and he felt no drier nor warmer now than he had been the previous day.

“Nat, watch out!” A woman’s voice, followed by another’s woman’s voice grunting in pain or exertion.

He rose to his feet, fighting with the cloak wrapped around him. When he’d finally extricated himself from it, he began to hear the other noises. Snorts and laughs, inhuman grunts, and a familiar-sounding screech. Bokoblins. At least three of them. Link grabbed his sword and shield and took off in the direction of the sounds. It was difficult to see in the thick fog, but he followed the sounds of a struggle. He soon saw what looked like the glow of a torch, and moments later, he came upon the commotion.

Two women, each wearing simple clothes and boots, as well as backpacks, stood back to back in a small clearing surrounded by trees. One of them held a torch out in front of her, while the other had a short sword in her hand, though she did not seem to be holding it very expertly. The one with the sword was favoring one of her legs. They were surrounded by three bokoblins, two of which had clubs and one that had half of an old pitchfork.

The nearest bokoblin, holding a club, turned and looked at him warily, having heard the noises of Link’s approach. Its expression grew covetous when it saw his sword. It ran at him, swinging its club in an easily-predicted arc that he batted away with his shield. He stabbed the bokoblin through the chest, dropping it.

One.

The other two bokoblins were a little wiser than their fallen brethren and split to come around Link, attacking from either side. The bokoblin with the half-pitchfork lunged forward with a war cry while, at the same time, its brethren on his other side swung its club at his head. He executed a backflip that took him out of range of both attacks, landing on the ground a few feet back. He nearly slipped on the wet grass, but dug his toes in and launched himself forward, first cutting down the club-wielding bokoblin and blocking another stab by the pitchfork bokoblin with his shield.

Two.

When the bokoblin, again, attempted to stab Link with increasingly desperate motions, he knocked the pitchfork aside and thrust his sword into its stomach.

Three.

With the last of the bokoblins disposed, Link turned back to the two women, breathing deeply. The woman with the sword leaned against the other one, still favoring one of her legs. The woman with the torch eyed Link with a mixture of awe and some fear.

“Wow,” said the woman with the sword. She had shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes. “See, Meghyn, I told you that we’d be fine so close to the village.”

“Fine?” Meghyn had short black hair, and grey eyes. Her voice was shrill and near-panicked. “Nat, we almost died! I told you that there had been bokoblins sighted around here and that it wasn’t safe to go out until they’d been cleared away.”

“Which they now have been.” The woman named Nat eased herself down to the ground, placing her sword on the ground, and running her fingers down her leg to her ankle. She winced. “Think I just sprained it. It’s not bad.”

“Are… you both all right?” Link asked.

“Oh!” Meghyn looked back at Link, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, thank you for saving us. My sister insisted that we come out early to look for mushrooms—”

“Truffles.”

“Truffles,” Meghyn said, shooting her sister an exasperated glare. “We’d heard that there were monsters in the area, but she didn’t think they would come so close to the village.”

“You won’t be complaining when I’m cooking dinner tonight,” Nat said, carefully removing her boot. He could see her ankle was noticeably swollen, even in the flickering torchlight.

“Are you from Hateno Village?” He stepped forward so that he was within the light of the torch. The mist still hung around them, making it hard to make out details through the shadows of the forest.

“Yes, I’m Meghyn and this is Nat. You are…?”

“Link. I have a horse back at my camp, and I was traveling to the village anyway, so you’re welcome to ride it back. I’ll make sure you aren’t attacked again.”

Nat tried placing weight on her foot again and scowled, swearing softly. She looked up at Link, looking embarrassed. “I guess I should. Meghyn, now that those bokoblins are gone, why don’t you keep looking?”

He hurried away so as to not intrude on the argument that ensued. He was able to find his way back to his small camp after a few minutes of searching and packed up what little gear he had laid out. A few minutes later, he led Spirit back to the sisters. Meghyn had, apparently, won the argument, as Nat looked irritated and insisted that Link be the one to help her onto the horse rather than her sister.

Together, the three of them began the slow walk back to the village. He quickly found that it was better to keep quiet, lest something he say spur the sisters into another argument. Regardless, he found out some about the small village, which relied heavily on dye exports and farming to sustain itself.

When asked, neither of the girls knew of any old women named Purah, however, which concerned Link. When he asked about ancient Sheikah technology, the sisters mentioned an old building on a hill overlooking Hateno Village. Neither of them knew much about what went on there or who lived there, other than the fact that the man that lived there tended to be very secretive about his work, and they thought he had a young daughter. It did not sound very promising to Link, but it was a place to start.

It only took a couple of hours before they reached the village. By then, the sun had properly risen, driving away the early morning mist, and blessedly, bathing the trio in warm sunlight. When they rounded a bend in the road, the village finally came into view.

The entire village appeared to be built on a series of hills of varying heights. Everything in the village had been built on the slopes of the hills, with the buildings nearest the entrance built at a considerably lower elevation than those further away. Beyond the village, Link could see several larger hills with paths leading up to their peaks, and, further than that, a massive snowy mountain.

The buildings of Hateno were all made of simple brick and plaster, all with red tiled roofs and very tall chimneys. Several windmills dotted the hills and fields. Near the village’s entrance, several new buildings were in the process of being built. Oddly, these clashed with the other constructions in the village, built out of vibrantly painted wood with multiple stories and flat-topped roofs. They looked out of place in the otherwise idyllic village.

The village bustled with activity. Farmers worked their fields, children played in the streets, villagers called out to each other, and a group of fairly large men walked with purpose towards the half-constructed houses. Link found himself smiling as they passed under a wooden arch that marked the entrance to the village. A sleepy man stood there holding a pitchfork, seemingly standing guard. The man was introduced by Meghyn as Thadd, and it was his job that day to keep an eye on the road to Hateno.

Thadd asked about Nat’s injuries, growing increasingly bewildered when she assured him that it was nothing and that he shouldn’t worry about the bokoblins in the forest anymore. Exasperated, Meghyn tried to explain, but Nat insisted they keep moving, spurring Spirit into motion with her good leg. This resulted in a confused Thadd taking off his straw hat and scratching his head as they walked away. Link grimaced inwardly—would he quickly become known in this village as the savior of these two women? He supposed that was better than being known as the Hero from legend—at least he could remember saving the women. Still, it was more attention than he wanted.

As he pondered this, he noticed a strange structure tucked behind a few other buildings and houses in the village. It appeared made entirely of black stone and was shaped into a roughly conical shape with a flared base and a flat top. A glowing orange Sheikah Eye had been emblazoned upon it, over what looked a lot like one of the doors from the Chamber of Resurrection, still closed.

What was that?

“Oh, that?” Nat said when asked. “No idea. Just started glowing like that, what, a week ago, Meghyn?” He felt a shiver run down his back. A week ago. How long had it been since he woke? Had it been a week? He could do little to investigate it now as Nat continued leading them deeper into the village. Somewhere along the way, she’d taken Spirit’s reins from him and rode with a reasonable degree of confidence, though it was clear her ankle still pained her.

Nat and Meghyn’s house was located next to a large open-fronted shop decorated with colorful sheets, banners, and clothing. The Hateno dye shop that Link had heard about from the women. According to Meghyn, the dyes made by this shop were exported as far as the Gerudo Highlands and Rito Village. Link found the sight of the shop to be a little fascinating. Inside the open-fronted shop, he could see fabrics of an impressive array of colors displayed outside, with even more examples of color inside.

Once they reached the house, Link assisted Nat in getting down off of Spirit. Meghyn took her arm once Nat was on the ground, supporting her. Once seeing the women safely home, he moved to take Spirit’s reins in hand again.

“You’re going already?” Meghyn stopped him with wide eyes. When Link looked at her, her cheeks flushed some. “I mean, you saved our lives. We should do something to repay you.”

At once, he felt incredibly awkward. He didn’t want repayment of any kind. He’d seen them in need and stepped in to help—any decent person would have done so, right? He certainly hoped so. “It’s… really all right. I need to try to find the person I came here for.”

“At least let us cook you a meal,” Nat piped in. Link was somewhat surprised. Of the two women, Meghyn had been the more grateful one thus far. He had expected Nat would just want to go inside and rest.

“Yes, it won’t take long. I can get started on it right away, as soon as I get Nat settled.” Meghyn nodded enthusiastically.

Ah, he thought. Meghyn would be the one doing the actual cooking. Nat’s willingness to offer made more sense now. Regardless, he wanted to continue on, but… well, a meal wouldn’t hurt. He hadn’t eaten anything that day, and it was already late in the morning.

“I suppose I can stay for a meal,” he said. After securing Spirit outside of their house and providing him with a bucket of grain, Link followed the women in, feeling excited for a proper hot meal, which he hadn’t had since leaving the stable.

Sometime later, Link left the sisters’ house, well-fed and refreshed. They had insisted he come back that evening for another meal, and he told them that he would, if he was able. Beyond providing him food, however, they had also helped him get the lay of the land, including the location of the local inn, and the probable location for Purah—or, at least, where he should start his search.

With this knowledge in hand, he led Spirit over a bridge that stretched over a small creek that bisected the town and continued up the hill. He spotted the inn—a two-storied building with a large patio. It had a small stable next to it, where a man that looked to be roughly Link’s age (not that he was exactly certain of his own age, really) eyed him with hawkish eyes. He wasn’t the only person in town that was looking at Link, either. While the town certainly didn’t seem to be unwelcoming to travelers and visitors, Link supposed that they likely didn’t see strangers too often.

Thankfully, none of them stopped him as he led Spirit past the inn and continued on the path that zig-zagged up the hill towards the strange building that overlooked the entire town. It would be a long walk, so he was heartened to see smoke rising from its distant chimney. At least someone was home.

The building at the top of the hill was… odd, to say the least. It looked as though it had once been a large windmill with the wind blades long removed. A house had been built around the base of the windmill, and another structure appeared to have been added to the top of the windmill, with wooden steps spiraling around it up to the room at its peak. A massive telescope had been set up on the second landing, pointing south.

Atop the old windmill’s tower was a Guardian. He stared up at the inert form, its six legs draped down over the tower. It seemed eerie to just see it sitting there. The others that Link had seen had all been seemingly frozen or destroyed in the middle of battle, but this one… It must have been brought here from somewhere else, but how could they have lifted it and placed it all the way up there?

He approached the door to the building. Hesitantly, he raised a fist and knocked. He waited for a few moments before the door was flung open by a little girl. She was Sheikah by the look of her grey-white hair, wore bright red spectacles, and had a truly strange looking golden bow in her hair made to look like an owl’s face, with shining blue eyes and a beak.

She looked up at Link, seemingly irritated, but then gasped sharply. She took a step back from him, eyes wide. “Oh!” She eyed the Sheikah Slate at his hip and then she gazed up at his face, studying him. “Oh. You must be here to see the Director.” The look of shock was masked by a sudden business-like expression.

Link wasn’t sure what to make of the little girl before him. She didn’t look like she could be any older than six or seven, but there was something to her eyes that made him feel strangely uncomfortable. “I… yes. I was sent here by Impa, of Kakariko Village. She told me to look for her sister, Purah. Is she…”

The girl’s lips twitched, and he noticed that she was grabbing the hem of her little white dress with both of her fists. “Oh, yes, the Director is in the back.” She thumbed over her shoulder at another figure at the back of the room. It was a Sheikah man, who eyed Link and the girl with pursed lips.

“Oh, I was hoping to find Purah here…” Link said, frowning. He looked back at the girl. “But I will, ah, talk to the Director. Thanks.” He began towards the man when he heard the girl behind him snickering. He frowned and glanced back, just in time to see her straighten and force a serious expression on her face again. He sighed and continued towards the Sheikah man, who, he noted, looked increasingly exasperated.

As he walked across the spacious room, he began to notice the objects inside of it. Off to the one side was one of the large stalactite-like stones and pedestals like he’d found on the towers. There were also some pieces of machinery that looked a lot like pieces of Guardians. Mostly, however, there was just an incredible number of books and loose sheets of paper with cramped writing on them scattered all about the room. They formed piles and stacks all over the floor, on the table in the center of the room, on the shelves and desks to the peripheries of the room. It was chaotic. In fact, the only place that wasn’t chaotic was the corner where the Sheikah man stood. His corner was neat and well-organized, with books lining a large number of bookshelves. Link wondered how he could keep his corner so clean while letting the rest of the room fall into such disarray.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the Sheikah man said when Link reached him. Link saw him glance down towards the Sheikah Slate on his hip and grew self-conscious when a look of recognition passed over the man’s eyes. “Oh! That is the actual Sheikah Slate, isn’t it?” He looked back up, eyes discerning. “That would make you Master Link, would it not?”

“Yes,” Link said, trying to keep himself from grimacing. Yet another person that seemed to know of him while he still felt blinded by his lack of memories. “Impa sent me.”

“Oh, yes. Lady Impa did warn us that you would be coming soon. We received a pigeon from her just yesterday. I assume she probably sent one to Master Robbie as well…” The Sheikah man looked thoughtful, tapping his lips with his finger. “Perhaps I should do so, just in case. I am certain he would like to know of your return as well…”

Link had no idea who this Master Robbie was, nor did he particularly care at the moment. “I was sent here to speak to Purah. My Sheikah Slate is not working properly, according to Impa. She told me that Purah might be able to fix it.”

“What?” The little girl ran up to him and, before he could react, snatched the Sheikah Slate off of his belt, inspecting it.

“Hey!” Link said, alarmed. The girl ignored him and scampered over to the table in the center of the room, climbing onto a tall stool and setting the Sheikah Slate down. She began to tap the screen furiously.

Link pursued her, worried that this child was going to break his Sheikah Slate before he even had a chance to speak with Purah. “I don’t think you should be playing with that. It isn’t a toy. Why don’t you give it back to me before—” He trailed off, eyeing the device. Instead of showing the various runes available, the screen on the Sheikah Slate now showed a great deal of text, which the girl was reading with apparent interest.

The Sheikah man stepped up behind him, looking over his shoulder at the girl and the device. When Link looked back at him, he merely shrugged, smiling wearily. “Master Link, my name is Symin. I am actually the Director’s assistant. Let me introduce you to the real Director, and the woman you seek—Miss Purah.”

“Check it!” The girl spun in her stool to grin up at Link. She winked at Link in a childish way. “Had you fooled! You really thought that Symin was the Director, didn’t you, Linky?”

Linky? Link thought, staring at the girl with a confused expression. He looked back at Symin. “I think there might be some kind of misunderstanding. Impa told me that I was looking for her sister.”

“Uh-huh,” said the girl.

“She told me that her sister would be here, at Hat—.”

“Yep.” The girl didn’t even seem to care that Link was addressing Symin and kept interrupting Link as he spoke.

“And I don’t see how Impa’s sister could be so—”

“Adorable? Sweet? Cute-as-a-button?”

“Young.”

“Well, click-snap, that’s a fun story!” the girl said, snapping her fingers to draw Link’s attention back to her. “You see, I was experimenting with a rune that would reverse the aging process, and… snap! Here I am! The youngest one hundred and twenty-or-so-year-old woman you’ll ever meet!”

“You’re Impa’s sister.”

“The one and the same!” She snapped her fingers as if suggesting to Link that he needed to keep up. “Impa’s my baby sister!” She seemed to find this quite funny, as she giggled after saying it. “My much older baby sister.”

Somehow, Link found himself accepting this. He, himself, was over a hundred years old, he’d spoken to a spirit and a bodiless princess, fought monsters, and found out he was supposed to defeat an ancient evil monster. What was one more impossible surprise?

Symin brought him another stool, and Link gratefully sat down. “Then… Impa asked me to come see you. She said that the Sheikah Slate was missing some of its runes and that some of them might actually be able to help me recover my lost memories.”

“Oh! So we were right—the Shrine of Resurrection did cause memory loss. Good to know!” She grabbed a piece of paper and a quill, scratched a line beneath a paragraph that she’d already written on it, and began to quickly scribble notes under that line, speaking softly to herself as she did so. “As expected… After one hundred years in the Slumber of Restoration, subject has lost all memories… Noted!” She punctuated this statement by tapping the quill on the page and replacing it in the inkpot.

“Do you think she’s right? Will the other runes help me recover my memories?”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “How am I supposed to know? I work on machines and ancient technology—not Hylian brains!” Her eyes fell back down to the Sheikah Slate, tapping her lip curiously. “Now, I need to figure out why these runes disappeared. They were there one hundred years ago when I put you in the Shrine of Resurrection.”

“You put me in the Shrine?”

She sighed dramatically and snatched up her quill, beginning to write again. “Subject appears to be very… persistent after one-hundred-year slumber… Perhaps side effect of the memory loss? Uncertain. Will consider further after work is complete on Sheikah Slate.”

She put the quill down and looked at Link, smiling sweetly. “Yes! I did! Well, we did.  Carried you all the way to the Great Plateau; you were heavy, too. Then we put you in there, locked the Sheikah Slate up with you, and then went our separate ways in hopes that at least one of us would still be alive when you woke up. As luck would have it, all of us are still alive. Funny that. Sheikah do tend to have longer lifespans than Hylians, but that seems particularly fortuitous.”

Link opened his mouth to ask another question, but she cut him off. “Now, why don’t you be a sweet little boy—” Link found it incredibly surreal to be called a sweet little boy by what appeared to be a six-year-old girl. “—and go outside and play. Practice swinging your sword or chop wood or something. Whatever it is you do when you’re bored, alrighty? I’ll set about to fixing the Sheikah Slate.”

With that, he had been dismissed. Purah turned back to inspecting the Sheikah Slate, waving one hand at him in a shooing motion. Feeling confused and more than a little frustrated, he did as she suggested, walking back outside to give her space. Before too long, Symin brought out a cup of tea, apologizing for Purah’s eccentricities, but assuring Link that she would get the Sheikah Slate fixed in no time.

It was some time before Symin was sent out again, this time to inform Link that Purah would be keeping the Sheikah Slate overnight to keep working on restoring its full functionality. He lamented the fact that they did not have a guest bed, and that Link would probably be more comfortable down at the inn in the village. As the air had already begun to cool noticeably with the late afternoon, Link had to agree with him.

He began back down the hill. The descent went by much faster than the ascent, thankfully, and he was able to reach Hateno Village before the sun had set, though just barely. His first stop was the inn, where he paid a handful of his rupees for a bed and a spot in the stable for Spirit. The innkeeper also offered him a meal, but he declined, remembering his promise to visit Meghyn and Nat for supper.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly for Link. The two sisters seemed to fight more often than not, but they clearly cared for one another. They also had plenty of stories to share. Nat, particularly, was able to tell Link of several notable legends in the area, including that of an evil demon-possessed statue that was supposed to be hidden somewhere near the village and of a hero from their village that bravely fought off dozens of Guardians at Fort Hateno before perishing. This story made Link distinctly uncomfortable, and he quickly changed the subject.

The story stuck with Link as the night wore on, however, and he was still thinking about it as he lied down at the inn that night. Village legends spoke of a hero that had grown up and lived in this very village. A knight that fought the Guardians in one grand final battle at Fort Hateno. He ultimately died, but his sacrifice prevented the complete destruction of Hateno Village, as the Guardians had been on their way to raze Hateno to the ground as they had done with so many other towns and settlements.

It struck too close to home for Link. He had no memories of living in Hateno Village or battling Guardians, but Nat had assured him that the story was true and that the old hero’s house remained to this day, unoccupied. He decided that he would have to ask Purah about the story in the morning. That decided, he fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Enjoying the feel of the soft, warm bed, he remained in it the following morning until the sun had risen high enough to banish the morning’s dew. He remained in it long enough for the few other patrons of the inn to rise and go down for breakfast, which did smell good. But, no. The bed was soft and inviting, and after several days of hard travel, it was just too nice to leave. Breakfast could wait.

Unfortunately, someone else had other ideas.

“Oh, Linky…”

A singsong voice. High-pitched and cheery. Childish. Link did not open his eyes. Perhaps if he just continued to pretend to be asleep…

“Linky…”

He felt a finger poke his leg. He still did not move. Just a few more minutes…

“Linky!”

Something soft hit him in the face, and he jolted, eyes opening. He sputtered and looked around in surprise, hair hanging down over his face. He reached up, sweeping his hair back and shooting the diminutive Purah a glare. She, in turn, clasped her hands behind her back and gave him a sweet smile.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” Purah said, clapping her hands together in front of her. “I hoped you would be.” She walked over to his bed and, despite his protests, yanked the bedsheets back.

“Purah…!” Link said, face turning red as he rolled out of bed. He was only wearing his undergarments.

“Oh, please.” She snorted but had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m a very old six-year-old. Nothing there that I haven’t seen before. And, snap! It’s not like we put you in the Shrine of Resurrection with clothes on, so…” Link’s face began to grow warm at the thought, but Purah, unfortunately, was not finished. “Wait, you didn’t wake up with clothes on, did you? Because that… that would be fascinating.”

“No,” Link said, grabbing his trousers and pulling them on. His tunic followed. “No, I did not wake up with any clothes on. Thank you for that.”

“Anytime!”

He sighed and sat on the bed, his back to her, to pull his socks on. “Why did you come all the way down here? I was planning on riding back up to the lab right after I ate breakfast.”

“Breakfast? There is no time for breakfast!”

Link’s heart sank, and he looked back around at her. “Why?”

“Because I’ve just about got the Sheikah Slate fixed! There’s just one more thing I need to do, and I need your help to do it.”

“And it can’t wait until after breakfast?”

“Nope!”

“Surely it can wait ten minutes.”

“Science waits for no man.” She placed her hands on her hips, striking a pose with her feet slightly more than shoulder-length apart and chin raised. It looked very comical to Link, but he chose not to say something lest she throw another pillow at him.

“Well, science sounds pretty damned rude.” he said instead as he laced his boots.

“Linky!” Purah said, gasping. He stiffened, looking back at her, worried that he’d offended her somehow. “I don’t think I’ve heard you make a joke before!” Link felt his face flush, not sure what to think of that at all. She ignored this, however, tapping her lip. “I wonder if that is a side effect of the Slumber of Restoration or the memory loss… Or, perhaps, you just never showed that side of yourself to me! Hard to say… How does a person’s personality change after such a traumatic event and subsequent memory loss?”

Feeling no desire to continue this conversation any longer, much less make wisecracks around her, he turned back away. He stood up from the bed, tapping his boots on the ground to settle his feet in them better. The leather had mostly been broken in after his days of traveling, thankfully, though he expected they would feel far more comfortable after a few more days. They were, at least, much more comfortable than the boots he got on the Great Plateau. Those had left blisters on his heels after his first day of walking.

“Oh, good, are you ready? It’s about time! Come on, come on!” Purah hurried to the door that led out of the communal room Link had rented a bed in. When she opened the door, the savory scents of bacon and eggs filled his nostrils. His stomach growled, and he rubbed it miserably.

He had rented the bed for at least two nights, so he didn’t bother bringing all of his supplies, but when Purah saw him, she stopped him. “I’d bring your sword and shield, honey.”

“Are we going somewhere dangerous?” Link frowned at her, thinking of the bokoblins from the day before.

“Click, snap! You never know what kind of trouble is going to find you! Always got to be prepared.”

Not at all sure that he liked the sound of that, Link did as she suggested, grabbing his sword and shield, as well as his small waist pack with supplies, quiver of arrows, and unstrung bow. As they walked down the stairs and into the inn’s common room, he saw quite a few people had come to the inn for what looked like a delicious breakfast. Fresh cucco eggs, bacon, and biscuits were piled high on wooden plates. Some of the people drank from steaming cups of tea.

Pursing his lips, he sat resolutely down in a chair. She looked back at him, eyebrows raising above the rims of her glasses. “What are you doing?”

“Science can wait for this man.” Firm. That was good. She had made him wait outside for hours the day before. He wouldn’t let her push him around today. She looked at him in irritation, crossing her arms. She began to tap her foot impatiently. He chose not to meet her eyes but waved at Prima, the young inn worker, as she looked in his direction. She came over and took his order.

“Ten minutes,” Purah finally said, looking every bit as threatening as a six-year-old little girl could.

“Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, Purah pushed through the morning bustle of Hateno Village, fists clenched at her sides, Link following behind. At one point, a boy who seemed very excited to meet a new little girl his age ran up to her, but she simply shouldered past him, ignoring him. Link shot the boy an apologetic look, who responded by sticking his tongue out at him. Little brat, he thought as he hurried to match Purah’s pace. For such a diminutive girl, she moved rather quickly.

They made their way down the hill until they reached the large silo. Link began to suspect her ultimate destination, and his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Purah turned them past the silo, to where the conical Sheikah structure stood just behind it. It was situated on a small ridge, which ended up being easy enough to climb, though he had to help her up one particularly steep section.

When they stood in front of the structure, Purah grinned up at it before looking over at him. “We tried for years to activate one of these shrines. Zelda, Robbie, and I.” When she spoke, her tone was different than before; excited, but thoughtful. He thought he detected reverence, too. “Robbie was always more interested in what kind of weapons and artifacts might be within, of course, but Zelda and I… We were interested in the science of it. In the history. The technology that was lost long ago, and what we could recover through its discovery.”

Purah stepped onto a circular platform in front of the Sheikah shrine and walked over to a pedestal just like the ones inside of the Shrine of Resurrection, which was placed just next to the closed door. She reached out one small hand, touching its cool surface.

“Nothing we did worked. For years, we did everything we could, hoping to find a way in. Of course, we also hoped something inside them could be used to stop Ganon, but…” She looked back at Link, and he was surprised to see tears shining in her eyes behind the bright red glasses. She blinked rapidly and turned away, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes. When she replaced them and looked back at Link, she seemed to be back to her normal, bubbly self.

“Of course, we never could figure out a way to power them, but we were missing something, weren’t we? Snap, I’ll bet those towers that popped up all over Hyrule has something to do with it, don’t they? Did you do that?”

Link stepped up to Purah, looking up at the shrine curiously. “I just… found one on the Great Plateau. It was partially buried, but it had a pedestal like the one back in your lab. I placed the Sheikah Slate in it and…” He made the motion of something rising from the ground with his hand.

“I’d bet that the earthquakes that happened when Calamity Ganon broke free revealed it! Snap, if we’d spent more time on the Great Plateau after placing you in the Shrine, we might have even found it… But with Zelda running off to seal Ganon, we couldn’t stay long. I wonder… but I suppose we couldn’t have activated them, anyway! We sealed the Sheikah Slate in the Shrine with you, didn’t we?”

Link reached out and touched the pedestal thoughtfully. “And you think this will fix the Sheikah Slate?”

“What?” Purah looked at him incredulously and then, after a moment, snapped her fingers. “Oh! No, of course not. I already did that. Upgraded the existing runes on it, too. That was easy.”

Link looked at her, exasperated. “I thought we were here to fix the Sheikah Slate.”

“No, we’re here to activate the shrine!”

“Well… what does the shrine do?”

“No idea!” At Link’s deepening frown, Purah shrugged. “I mean, we have theories.”

“Well… what are your theories?”

“We thought that maybe these were placed by the ancient Sheikah over ten thousand years ago to help train the Legendary Hero—you—to defeat Ganon. But really, that’s just a theory.” She paused. “A theory backed up by years of research, fragments of ancient texts, and the brainpower of yours truly, so it’s probably pretty accurate.” She shrugged again.

A shrine to train the Legendary Hero. Link felt that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again. Was this yet another task he would have to complete on his journey to defeat Ganon and free Princess Zelda?

“Is this the only one?” he said, looking back up at the orange Sheikah eye above them. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Of course not! We’ve got these things all over the country, though I think most of them have been hidden by time. We excavated some of them, but I don’t think we even came close to finding them all.”

“And I need to find them all?” Link grimaced, suddenly feeling any hope of accomplishing this task drain out of him. If he had to find these to defeat Ganon…

“What?” Purah looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you insane? We’re way past training you to be a hero, Linky! I suppose if you find some others out there, it wouldn’t hurt to check them out—might even be fun! But you don’t have time to go trying to dig these up now.”

He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or not. It was good to know that he wouldn’t be expected to go find each of these ancient shrines, but if they’d been built for the express purpose of making sure he was ready to face Ganon, then was he setting himself up for another failure by not doing so?

Purah brought him back out of his introspection by snapping her fingers at him. “You get distracted more easily than Symin. Pay attention!” She pulled the Sheikah Slate from a small bag she had slung over her shoulder. “Snap, we’re going to make history today. Linky! Give me a good snap!”

“I… what?”

“Snap! Give me a snap! A good one.”

Link opened his mouth, utterly confused by this. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Um…snap?”

Purah gave him a look of disgust before rolling her eyes, mumbling something under her breath. Then she straightened, looked back at the pedestal, and placed the Sheikah Slate against its flat surface.

The pedestal flashed a brilliant blue, followed by the circular platform they stood on. The shrine shuddered as the door, which was made up of a series of horizontal, interlocking stone blocks, swung open with the sound of stone grinding on stone.

Purah whooped and laughed, jumping up and down as the shrine came to life. Link couldn’t help but smile some at the exuberance shown by the little girl—until he remembered that she was actually well over a hundred years old, which made the sight seem a little strange.

Surprisingly, there did not seem to be much of interest inside of the shrine, however. A simple glowing platform sat in the small rock enclosure. It was clearly Sheikah in design with its blue glow and was much smaller than the large circle on the outside of the shrine. There wasn’t even another pedestal with which to use the Sheikah Slate.

Purah grabbed Link’s hand with her own small one and pulled him forward onto the circle inside. As they stepped on it, the floor shifted under their feet. He stumbled, his eyes widening as the glowing blue circle under their feet began to sink into the ground.

The Sheikah girl laughed again, her eyes wide with unbridled excitement. Link, for his part, felt naked and unsure. He had his weapons, yes, but they were entering some kind of underground cavern, it would seem. He had no idea what to expect, and, to make matters worse, Purah was with him. He would possibly have to protect her as well.

The floor beneath them continued to sink, and, soon, they were surrounded by rock walls. The only light came from the soft blue lights on the platform and the increasingly distant circle of light above them. He wondered if any of the other villagers would investigate the shrine. What if one of the children fell in? He felt sick just thinking about it. Had they been irresponsible trying to do this without properly warning the villagers? As if sensing his concerns, the circle of light far above grew suddenly dark. Distantly, he could hear the sound of the stone door closing again.

Well, at least that takes care of that. Now we just have to find a way out, he thought, his heart sinking further.

For a few seconds, the only light came from beneath their feet, and he could just faintly make out Purah’s excited expression. Light suddenly flooded the small shaft they were descending into. The platform had cleared a lip in the rock and now floated down in a brightly lit cavern. Link’s eyes widened as he took in the sight.

They were in some kind of cylinder made of stone rings and vertical beams of light. He couldn’t see anything that was actually controlling the platform they were standing on, but it continued to slowly descend without any trouble. Outside of the cylinder, however, was a large cavern. Really, cavern probably wasn’t the right word for it, as it was clearly not natural. Familiar glowing orange lights and lines formed strange patterns reminiscent of celestial constellations covered the otherwise plain black stone walls. The ceiling was a strange mass of blue light crisscrossed with support beams that didn’t appear to support anything that Link could actually make out. The floor was the strangest thing, however.

The floor wasn’t a floor at all. Instead, the actual floor appeared to be so far beneath them that it was impossible to make out. They were descending toward some kind of large platform, blocky and solid. He couldn’t see any way that it was floating, other than being attached to the one wall at Link and Purah’s backs. It seemed far too flimsy for the platform’s mass, yet it stood without any difficulty. There were others like it as well. In fact, the platforms in the room were of many different shapes and sizes and appeared to have different purposes. For example, directly after the platform that Link and Purah were descending to, there was something that looked like a pair of windmill’s blades, turned on their sides to form rotating platforms. This rotating platform crossed a large gap leading to the next solid platform, attached to the wall at its side.

Purah gasped as she took it all in, taking out her notebook and scribbling furiously with a small charcoal pencil. She didn’t speak out loud as she wrote—it would appear that this was all too much to even warrant that. The look of concentration on her face might have even been comical, with her eyebrows furrowed and tongue sticking out, caught between her lips, but Link felt too overwhelmed. Who were the ancient Sheikah? How could they make something like this? And to hide it underground, to mask it under perfectly normal-looking terrain features… It was astonishing.

They reached the ground with a soft thud and the strange light that had guided them down faded, providing them the way out onto the large platform. As he stepped out, a sound like a gong rang out in the chamber, causing him to tense, eyes wide, as he looked around for the source of the sound. A voice, loud, booming, and seeming to come from everywhere at once, filled Link’s ears with its deep resonance.

“To you who sets foot in this shrine…” Link glanced back at Purah in utter confusion, but she, too, seemed taken aback by the voice. “I am Myahm Agana.” Purah gasped next to him and began writing again. “In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this trial.” There was another gong, and then nothing. Silence.

Link turned to Purah, opening his mouth to speak, but she shushed him violently, shaking her head. She kept writing, reaching the bottom of the page she was on before flipping it over and beginning to scribble on the back. Her hands moved far faster than Link would have thought it possible for anyone to write. After filling in half of this new page, she finally tapped her pencil and looked back up at Link. She looked flushed, and he wondered if it was due to the intensity of her writing.

“Okay!” Purah shoved her the paper and small pad she’d been writing on into her pack and pulled out the Sheikah Slate, looking at it quietly and then up at Link. She looked back at the Slate, and finally, her shoulders slumped. She held the Slate out to him. “These shrines are to train you, Linky, so you might as well have this.”

“Thanks.” He took the Sheikah Slate, clipping it to his belt, which seemed to annoy Purah somehow. He stepped up to the ledge, looking at the rotating platform before him. “Do you think we need to cross this?”

“Oh, probably… Unless the ancient Sheikah wanted us to just stand here for a while.” Her sweet smile was at complete odds with the sarcastic bite in her tone. He ignored it.

He sized up the rotating platform. It was moving quickly, connected by a spinning pole to the wall. He had absolutely no idea how it worked—or even if it would properly support his weight. But if he leaped onto it just as the first fin reached the proper height, he could sprint across and leap across. Hopefully before the angle grew so steep that he slipped and fell down into the bottomless pit.

Link backed up, taking a deep breath, readying himself, but then he hesitated. It was foolish, of course. Nigh suicidal! One misstep, running just a little too slowly, and he would plunge into the depths. What would Hyrule do then? Who would save the princess? It was foolish.

“Purah, maybe we should just go back up.” Link shook his head, straightening. “This isn’t… safe.”

“Click, snap! Of course, it is!” Purah grinned at him, placing her hands on her hips.

“There is no way I can run across that without falling,” Link said, feeling exasperated. “And, besides, you would have to get across too, and I just don’t think—”

“Run across? What, are you blind? We’re not going to run across!” Purah’s grin remained, a strange twinkle in her youthful eyes.

He got the sense that he was missing something very important. He felt a headache beginning to form between his temples. “Look, if you know something, just… say it.”

She sighed and walked over to him, tapping the Sheikah Slate at his waist. “You know how we couldn’t get in here without this? Maybe—hear me out here—maybe you should use this in here.”

He gave her a blank stare for several moments, considering her words, and then compressed his lips into a thin line. Of course. He removed the Sheikah Slate from his waist, looking at the runes available. He noted immediately that there were a few additional ones that hadn’t previously been there, but he ignored those, for the time being, instead selecting the yellow Stasis rune. At once, the screen grew translucent and he gazed through it at the rotating platform, which was highlighted in a bright yellow light. At just the right moment, he selected the rune and the platform flashed brightly before going perfectly still, forming a level platform for them to cross on.

Purah laughed happily and did a little dance as she crossed the platform. Link saw the timer counting down on the screen and hurried across after her, feeling relieved once back on stable ground. Once he was safely across, Purah grinned at him, showing teeth.

“Come on, come on!” She turned and hurried down a shallow slope that led to another gap between platforms. This one had two stone tracks connecting the platforms with a pair of metal platforms that were placed along the tracks, though neither of them was close enough to jump onto. She looked back at him as he approached, smirking. “Can you figure this one out?”

Switching over to the Magnesis rune, he shot out the strange beam and connected to the nearest metal platform. With the Sheikah Slate repaired, he was able to control the platform’s distance from him using the additional buttons on the screen. He brought the platform closer, and Purah happily danced onto it. Link followed and then used the Slate to bring the other platform closer. They crossed onto this platform and, using Magnesis, moved the previous platform forward enough to cross back over onto. Using the twin metal platforms like stepping stones, they crossed the gap without any other incident or word.

The next hour or so passed in much the same way. Link found that the shrine appeared to mostly be a series of simple exercises to make sure he was familiar with the functionality of the Sheikah Slate. They crossed a waterfall using Cryonis, formed a bridge with Magnesis, and had to freeze several more moving platforms with Stasis before they reached the other end of the chamber they were in.

Just when Link was beginning to feel that the exercises being presented him were, perhaps, a little simpler than he had expected from such a lofty place, they crossed through a door into a much larger room. There was no real floor in this next room—just a handful of stable platforms among a series of moving platforms, metal blocks, and several waterfalls. It was clear this was to be the real challenge of the shrine.

For the next two hours, they carefully made their way across the room. It was slow going and quite a bit more dangerous than the previous room. Even Purah’s quips seemed to dry up after one particular platform that acted like a seesaw broke out of its Stasis before Purah had made it all the way across. As it began to tilt down, she screamed and leaped for the platform Link was standing on. Only his quick reaction in grabbing her by her wrist kept her from falling down into the seemingly bottomless pit below. They took a break after that before, finally, continuing on and reaching the final platform. Relieved, Link leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly.

“Do you think that was it?” he asked after catching his breath. Purah shrugged and shook her head. She was breathing heavily as well, cheeks flushed. Finally, they continued on down a set of stairs that led into a large open room. Several stone pillars reached up to the ceiling, and there was a conspicuous square-shaped hole in the center.

“Linky!” Purah said. He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “To answer your previous question—nope!” He sighed and moved forward into the room, holding his Sheikah Slate carefully. He spotted a few heavy-looking metal crates off to one side of the room, but their purpose was not immediately obvious to him.

A rumbling noise from the center of the room brought his attention back to the hole. As he watched, the missing piece of the floor rose into place from the depths of the hole. It clicked into place, completing the room’s floor. Located at its center was some kind of mechanical creature that looked somewhat related to the dead Guardians that he had seen throughout Hyrule.

It was smaller than the Guardians that Link had seen, thankfully—shorter than Link’s own height—with three spider-like legs and a squat body connecting them. It had a domed head with a single blue eye. Link’s initial thought was that it did not actually look very threatening.

“It’s a Guardian Scout! I haven’t seen a functioning one in, what, sixty years or so?” Purah seemed quite excited by its presence and grabbed out her paper and pad to write on. “Its coloring is orange. Fascinating!”

At Purah’s voice, the Guardian’s domed head swiveled around, and its blue eye fell on Link. To his dismay, the head suddenly rose upon a cylindrical extension of its body, rising to be about Link’s height. To make matters worse, two thin mechanical arms extended out from its body. With a flash, a pair of strange weapons appeared in its hands, if they could be called such.

The weapons appeared to be a sword and shield, but they were glowing and slightly translucent. As the Guardian moved them, they buzzed and hummed. Neither of them seemed terribly threatening—the sword was shorter than Link’s sword, and the shield was fairly small as well—but he didn’t trust the way they looked. The hairs on his arms stood on end, and his breath quickened. He knew at once that this small, simple automaton was dangerous. And its eye was focused on him alone.

Link hooked his Sheikah Slate to his belt and unsheathed his sword and shield. The Guardian Scout didn’t move until after Link armed himself. Its legs moved fluidly, made up of dozens of small joints that gave them great flexibility and speed, and it crossed the distance to Link much faster than he had expected. Without warning, it swung the sword horizontally, and he was forced to dance back, narrowly avoiding the slice that would have removed his head.

Breathing quickly, he leaped forward, swinging his sword towards the Guardian’s blue eye, but it moved its shield into place with a surprising quickness. His sword bounced harmlessly off, and he barely had time to get his own shield up in time to block the follow-on attack. The Guardian’s sword struck his shield with powerful force, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

Relentless, the Guardian advanced on Link, and he was forced to dodge and deflect more attacks. When he thought he saw another opening, he swung out, but again, his sword only found the blue, crackling shield.

From her place, sitting on the stairs that led down into the room, Purah called out to Link, but he ignored her. The Guardian paced around him in a circle, the shield held defensively in front of its body. It seemed to be waiting for Link to make his next move. He feinted left, and it swung its sword down through the air in a chopping motion, right where it thought Link should have been. Instead, he stepped towards the right and stabbed his sword out, the tip slipping past the Guardian Scout’s shield to find its way home to the Guardian’s exposed central body, where it bounced off harmlessly.

For a frozen second, Link stared with wide eyes at the utter lack of damage dealt to the Guardian, and then it swiveled its shield around, catching his sword and wrenching it from his hands. The sword spun away from him, splashing down in the water that now covered the floor. When had that even happened? As he stumbled back, he was surprised to find that the entire chamber was now covered by about an inch of water. Not enough to cause him to lose his footing, but enough to slow him.

The Guardian advanced relentlessly, its eye never leaving Link. Weaponless, Link had no choice but to keep retreating, looking for any other weapons with which to use. He had left his unstrung bow sitting on the steps next to Purah, who did not seem to be at all interested in assisting him, except… why was she waving at him? And what was she yelling?

“—kah Slate! Use the—”

Link  grabbed the Sheikah Slate from his belt, pressing the Cryonis rune. With a hasty aim, he caused a block of ice to rise up right underneath one of the Guardian’s legs. It tipped, nearly falling over, but then righted itself, walking around the block of ice to continue its advance. He, however, had managed to gain more distance from the Guardian in the momentary distraction, and he was able to raise up two more blocks of ice in front of it, blocking its path for another few precious moments.

When it came around the block again, Link pressed the Stasis rune and, suddenly, the Guardian flashed with the comforting yellow light, freezing in place. Feeling a rush of giddy joy, his fingers danced across the screen, selecting the blue Remote Bomb rune. The bomb appeared right in front of him, and he kicked it towards the frozen Guardian before running back several paces. As soon as the Stasis rune broke, he set off the bomb, which sent the Guardian flying backward in a heap of tangled limbs. To his astonishment, its two arms were sheared off in the blast, leaving the Guardian unarmed.

Feeling as though a weight had lifted off of his shoulders, he grinned and lowered the Sheikah Slate. That’s when he saw its eye flash white.

His body moved of its own accord, diving to the side as a beam of light shot from its eye, striking the ground where he had been standing moments before, sending a cloud of hissing steam into the air. The Guardian did not give him much of a chance to recover after that and launched another volley of deadly light at him, narrowly missing as he stumbled through the water.

Link ran around one of the stone pillars, which blocked the next two volleys from the Guardian, though the pillar shuddered worryingly in the process, sending light dust and debris raining down on his head. He could hear the Guardian’s clawed feet splashing through the water as it approached him, and he looked quickly around for another weapon he could use. His eyes fell on the large metal crates nearby.

There seemed to be something wrong with how the Magnesis rune worked. Link was no scientist, but he felt that it was strange that he could use the rune to lift such a large metal box into the air while feeling none of its considerable weight in his own arms. It didn’t make a lot of sense. Of course, at that moment, he didn’t really care much.

He swung the Sheikah Slate violently to the side and the metal crate, obligingly, slid through the water with the terrible sound of metal grating against stone. The Guardian’s eye swiveled to look at it as it approached, but it did nothing to dodge the box as it collided with the Guardian hard enough to send the automaton flying through the air. It hit the ground in a roll and settled some ten feet away. Link eyed it cautiously, still maintaining his mysterious hold on the metal box, and when it began to shudder back to its feet, he lifted the box into the air and brought it crashing down with enough force to shatter both the box and the Guardian underneath.

Breathing deeply, he stumbled back and leaned against the stone pillar. Across the large arena-like room, one final door slid open. The water began to drain from the room, flowing into small grates that had opened at the room’s edges. Over on the steps, Purah wrote furiously on her paper.

When he finally approached her, she looked up at him and grinned. “Good job, Linky! That was some quick thinking! For a moment there, I thought we were going to have to find ourselves another hero…” She tapped her lips thoughtfully with her charcoal pencil. It left black smear on her lips. “I wonder what you would have done in this shrine had I not come with you…”

I’m only here because you insisted, he thought. He did not speak that aloud, however, and merely shook his head. “That should be it, right? There can’t possibly be anything else after… that. What did you call it?”

“A Guardian Scout!” She shot to her feet and hurried across the floor to the mangled remains. “A Guardian Scout that appeared to not be under Ganon’s control.” When Link gave her a blank look, she scowled at him. “Don’t you understand? We didn’t know that any Guardians remained outside of Ganon’s control! Somehow, the shrine… protected it. I need to study this.” Her voice took on a singsong tone as she rubbed her hands together. “This could bring about a breakthrough…”

Deciding to leave her to her investigation of the Guardian, he walked over and retrieved his fallen sword. He noticed with some irritation that its tip had been chipped in his failed attack against the Guardian. It was still usable for a time, but he worried that point of weakness would weaken the rest of the blade over time. Deciding there was nothing he could do for it now, he sheathed his sword and shield before, out of curiosity, walking over to where the Guardian’s limbs had been blown off.

The arms, he found, had hands with three spindly fingers each. These fingers gripped a strangely designed sword hilt and a disc that he assumed was the Guardian’s shield. They both appeared to be made of the same black metal that made up the Guardian’s body, with familiar-looking Sheikah designs on them. Link bent down, prying the Guardian’s broken hand open and pulling the sword hilt out. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting its smooth black surface. Finally, he found a small switch on its side. Carefully positioning it away from his body, Link pressed down on the switch.

With a flash of blue light and a hum, the sword’s blue blade appeared, extending out of the hilt. Gasping, Link’s eyes widened. He carefully turned the blade, noting with amazement that it appeared to have no thickness to it at all. It was thinner than he thought possible, and he wondered at its cutting power. If this blade had caught him, it would have likely sliced through any of his limbs with ease. It was probably a miracle that his shield had survived a blow from this.

He placed the blade against the Guardian’s broken arm and applied pressure. With surprising ease, the blue blade cut cleanly through the metal arm. With some surprise, Link found that the cut ends of the arm were glowing red with molten metal or stone. Was the blade hot? It didn’t seem to have any heat radiating off of it, but he decided against testing it against his skin.

He deactivated the Guardian sword and slipped it into his belt, determined to experiment more with it later. He picked up the small disc that he assumed was its shield, attempting to test it out in the same way. It seemed to have been damaged in the fight, however, and would not activate. He left it next to the discarded limbs and walked back over to Purah.

“Look, Linky!” She stood up from the Guardian’s wreckage, holding a small yellow sphere with a smirk. “The core survived your beating! Hopefully, I can pull some important data from it. Get your new toys? Good. Let’s hope we can get back to the lab so I can examine this.”

They turned and walked towards the newly opened door, which revealed one more, smaller room. A set of stairs led up to a raised dais, where a large glowing blue cube sat. Curious, Link approached it and found, with some surprise, the old, desiccated remains of an ancient Sheikah sitting within it. It was thin enough to see its skeleton underneath its dark, papery skin, with sunken eyes, nose, and mouth. A white Sheikah tattoo stood out starkly in the center of its forehead. The corpse was seated cross-legged with its hands held up at chest height, fingers and thumbs forming a triangle. It wore a simple Sheikah robe and pants, and its long white hair had been pulled up into a top knot.

Purah stepped up beside him, staring at the Sheikah with wide eyes. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she had no quips to make about this seemingly mummified member of her tribe. The man appeared to have been dead for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Which was why it was so surprising when the Sheikah’s eyes suddenly opened, revealing empty sockets, and its mouth opened, showing a dark, toothless maw and shriveled tongue.

Purah stumbled back and released a series of curses that sounded extremely inappropriate to be coming from such a young girl’s mouth. Link wrenched his sword free from its scabbard, alert for another trial or attack. But no attack came. Instead, the Sheikah in the glowing cage spoke with the same, resonant tone that they’d heard upon entering the shrine.

“Your resourcefulness in overcoming this trial speaks to the promise of a hero…” The ancient Sheikah moved slowly, uncrossing its legs and standing. As it moved, its bones cracked and popped, and Link was amazed that it could move at all. What kind of magic sustained this Sheikah’s life for so long? The Sheikah stood, stooping slightly. “You have taken the first steps necessary to defeat the evil plaguing this land. Now, go. Hone your abilities. Save what remains.”

Link slowly sheathed his sword, watching the Sheikah. To his amazement, the Sheikah man clasped its hands together and bowed at the waist. He, hesitantly, did the same, bowing in more than a little reverence for the old man who had, to Link’s approximation, waited in this shrine for far too long. When the Sheikah stood, it turned its empty eye sockets on Purah, and its cracked lips formed a smile.

“Be strong, little one.” It bowed towards Purah, who looked on with a shocked expression. Finally, she seemed to come to her senses and clapped her hands together, bowing with a practiced air. When the Sheikah rose, it spoke again, still looking at Purah. “Guide the hero. Do not fail as we did.”

The Sheikah fixed its empty gaze forward and then began to fade. Link and Purah both gasped as the Sheikah’s body dissolved into thousands of glowing blue-green particles, which floated away before fading completely. The blue shield that had surrounded it faded as well, leaving an empty dais. Link glanced down at Purah, struggling to find words.

Whatever he might have said, however, was lost when he noticed that Purah’s feet, like the ancient Sheikah, were breaking apart into the blue particles. She cried out his name, and he saw that the same was happening to his own feet. The sensation traveled quickly up his body, causing his legs and torso to disappear. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, but then the sensation reached his head and everything went white around him.

Moments later to his approximation, the world took shape once again. The white faded to reveal a bright blue sky overhead, full of puffy clouds. Trees swayed in a soft breeze, and birds sang happily with the day. The day had warmed considerably in the time they had been in the shrine.

He gasped and looked around, finding that he was, again, standing upon the base of the Sheikah shrine. The orange glow of the Sheikah symbol upon its face had turned blue, and the door remained closed. He looked down and saw Purah beside him, patting herself down as if to make sure she was all there. She looked up at him, eyes wide, and, for a moment, still seemed unable to speak. That did not last long, however.

“Click, snap! Instant transportation! I’ve read of it before, of course, but to actually experience it… I must do more to study this. Perhaps figure out a way to activate it on my own Sheikah Slate…” She pulled the paper out of her bag again, scribbling several notes, muttering to herself as she did so. When she finished with a flourish of her wrist, she put the paper and pencil away, looking up at Link with a grin. He could see, though, that the experience they shared still haunted her, as it did him. The grin did not quite reach her red eyes.

“We should go back to the lab. I need to examine your Sheikah Slate one more time before I can let you go, alrighty?” Purah began down from the shrine, pointedly ignoring the few villagers that had gathered to see how it had changed. Link wasn’t sure if any of them had seen the two of them arriving again, but he hoped not. He did not want to answer the questions that would follow.

The villagers, thankfully, chose to part around them as they passed, though he heard several whispered conversations breaking out behind him. He briefly caught sight of Meghyn, who watched him with wide eyes, but she, too, kept her distance. The two walked in silence up the path to the inn’s stables, where they retrieved Spirit and Purah’s mule.

It was sometime later before either of them spoke again. Both of were deep in thought following the shrine, and the slow, plodding pace of their mounts only seemed to encourage the thoughtfulness. Finally, though, Purah broke the silence.

“Linky, I am surprised at you.” She looked over at him from her mule, which she appeared to have named “Mule”, and smiled.

“Why?” Link frowned slightly, unsure of what he had done this time.

“Well, yesterday, you wouldn’t stop pestering me with questions, but you haven’t asked any today.”

Link did not particularly think he had been pestering her with questions the day prior, but he said nothing of that effect. Instead, he considered what he might ask. Before he could ask anything, though, she continued.

“Do you… want to know anything about your life before? I didn’t really know you that well, but the princess was…” Purah smiled in such a way that made her look much older than the six-year-old body would suggest. “We were close. She was like my younger sister. And you were always two steps behind her.”

His face flushed and he looked down towards Spirit’s lazily bobbing head. He felt Purah’s gaze on him but wasn’t sure he wanted to meet her eyes.

“Come on, Linky… There must be something that you want to know. Do you want to know what the princess really thought of you? She might have let something slip one late evening when you were sleeping.”

“The villagers mentioned a hero from the village that died defending it against the Guardians. Was that…”

“You? Yep!” Purah bounced a little in her saddle. “You were—are—the grand hero of Hateno Village. Not a very fun question to ask, but sure. You used to live here.”

Link finally looked up at her, briefly, and then out at the village stretching below them. Of course, he could not recognize it at all. Nothing about it even seemed familiar to him.

“Really, I guess your family lived here. You probably wouldn’t even remember much of it, even if you had your memories—your father was a knight in the Royal Guard, after all.” Link’s head snapped around to look at Purah again. “So you spent most of your life living in Castle Town or the castle. Still had some land here, though.”

“I heard that my old—” He hesitated and then cleared his throat. “—the hero’s old house was still around. Is that true?”

She shrugged. “Do I look like someone that goes into town often? It was a few years ago, but…”

“Do I… still have any family alive?”

Her expression fell. “As far as I know, your entire family was near the castle when Calamity Ganon broke free.”

His heart sank, but he couldn’t find it in himself to truly mourn this. He didn’t even remember his own parents or any other family he might have had. How could he truly mourn strangers?

For a time, silence fell between them again as they slowly made their way up and around the hill towards Purah’s lab. She eventually broke the silence again, pointing at his Sheikah Slate.

“I did fix that. If you look at the runes, you’ll see few more! The green one is the camera rune—you can take photographs with it.” Link had no idea what photographs were, so he pulled the Sheikah Slate from his belt and clicked the rune. At once, the screen turned transparent again, and he was reminded of the telescopic rune that it had. When he pressed the green rune again, however, the screen flashed and he was presented with a still image of what he had been pointing it at—Hateno Village from above—perfectly captured in all of its detail. The still image remained for a few seconds before disappearing, replaced by the transparent screen again.

“You can look at the photos you’ve taken by clicking the rune next to it. That’s the photo gallery. There’s…” Purah hesitated, her voice hitching. After swallowing and smiling, she continued. “There’s actually a lot of old photographs on there. We didn’t clear them before…”

Link did as she said, opening the gallery. He immediately saw the photo that he’d taken first, but beyond that, he saw… himself. Clad in a blue tunic, hair styled much the same way it was now, though perhaps a little shorter. He was sitting in front of a fire, tending a cookpot with a long stick. He could see several pieces of meat cooking in the pot. His expression looked… content. A small smile played across his lips in the photograph. He began to flip through the different photographs.

There were dozens of them. Some were pictures of beautiful sunsets or interesting landmarks. There were pictures of ancient Sheikah shrines, of Guardians standing in non-threatening manners. Animals, insects, and even rocks and trees. There were pictures of beings, unlike anything he ever recalled seeing—a tall bird-like man with a beak and feathers, a shorter woman with warm eyes with fish fins, a massive brown-skinned being with an equally large grin, a tall woman with vibrant red hair and a dangerous-looking air about her. And there were pictures of him. Riding a brown horse, cleaning a beautiful sword with a purple hilt, or just sitting and standing. Many of them were taken, apparently, without his knowledge, as he was often turned away at the time.

Finally, he stopped at one photo showing a beautiful woman dressed in a flowing white dress. She was standing before a large pool of water with rock walls around her. Her golden hair parted around her round face, falling down past her shoulders to her back. Her green eyes shone with an expression that seemed sad, even though she was smiling in the photograph.

Link’s heart clenched, and he quickly closed the gallery rune. A lump had formed in his throat and would not go away. He did not know why the sorrow he felt all of a sudden came upon him so powerfully at that moment, but he found himself unable to speak. He could not get the sight of the woman’s sad eyes out of his mind.

Zelda.

He knew her name. He thought that he might have known it, even had King Rhoam, Impa, and Purah not all mentioned it many times in his presence. He had no memories of her, nothing he could point to and explain how he knew… But he longed for her. He knew, in that moment, why nothing had felt right since he awoke. Why he felt lonely when making camp. He knew what was missing. He may not have had any memories of his time with her, but his heart remembered.

Purah looked at him for several more seconds but said nothing more. Perhaps she could see something in his expression that suggested that he did not want to speak any further, or perhaps she just suspected what looking at the photos would do to his mind. Either way, she gave him the silence that he desperately needed in that moment.

Link gripped Spirit’s reins with a vice grip. His knuckles were white. He tried to remember. He tried. He wanted to remember something—anything—yet his mind only showed him a black hole where memories should have been. Shouldn’t he be able to remember something? He clenched his teeth hard enough to make his jaw hurt. If he traveled so much with her—if she meant so much to him—then why couldn’t he remember a single thing about her? He knew her voice because she’d spoken to him since waking, he knew her face because of the photo, but what of her? What of their travels? Why did his heart ache so when he saw her, yet he found nothing—nothing!—when he tried to remember a single thing about her?

The remainder of the ride passed in silence. Purah made no more attempts at conversing with Link, and he was happy to keep his thoughts to himself. When they reached the tech lab, she took the Sheikah Slate from him once more, retreating inside while Link remained outside, gazing out at the unfamiliar land stretching before him that had once been his home.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

The sun had dipped with the late afternoon into the evening and, finally, into the first suggestions of twilight. The air had cooled some, which prompted him to pull the dark cloak around his shoulders. He could have gone inside, he knew—Purah would have only yelled at him if he interrupted her work.

Yet he remained. He sat in the grass, his back towards an old tree—apples again, he had noted with a wry smile. Hyrule certainly had plenty of apple trees. Any mirth he found in this thought was quickly lost, however, as he gazed towards a frozen mountain in the distance. He watched as clouds floated through the sky, gathering around its peak, and then dispersed as the day wore on.

Part of Link itched to look at the photographs on the Sheikah Slate, to see the small glimpses into the life he’d had before everything had gone to ruin. At the same time, he was inordinately grateful to Purah for taking the cursed thing from him. Had he been holding it now, he knew that he would have found the photo of Princess Zelda again, beautiful in her simplicity, and he would have… what? He didn’t know.

A noise behind him first alerted him to Purah’s presence. A strange sound that Link seemed to recall hearing as he and Purah had teleported back onto the shrine’s base earlier. He frowned and looked around the base of the tree, surprised to see a small person being formed of glowing blue particles on a familiar-looking circular stone base in front of the Ancient Tech Lab. How had he not noticed that before? The particles took the shape of a little girl with a strange owl-faced bow, solidified, and then flashed with bright light.

“Aha!” Purah cried, leaping into the air with excitement. “I did it! I did it, I did it! I! Did! It!” She seemed to do a little dance for a few seconds before she noticed him watching. She grinned brightly and laughed happily, running over to him. “Linky, did you see that?”

Link stood from his spot on the ground, looking at her in confusion. “I don’t… How did you…”

“I just teleported from here to the top of the tower on the Great Plateau, and then back!” He noticed that she was holding his Sheikah Slate in her hands, and he glanced from it to her face.

“The Sheikah Slate can do that?”

“It can now.” She laughed again, shrill and slightly manic. “That was the only rune I was still having trouble with before we went to the shrine. But when we teleported back, it gave me an idea, so I made some adjustments and wham! Instant transportation.”

“I don’t… how…”

“Well, I am the world’s top tier scientist when it comes to ancient technology.” She seemed to stand a little taller at this, and Link noticed with some chagrin that she was actually standing on her toes to do so. “And Robbie can just deal with it. I tried teleporting over to see him, but it seems that the Sheikah Slate can only visit places that it remembers being to recently.”

“And it can go anywhere?”

“No, just places it’s been to recently. I just said—”

“I mean, anywhere that it’s been recently.”

“Well… no.” She shook her head and turned the Sheikah Slate to face Link, where he saw a map of Hyrule. Several new icons had been placed on the map, each of which was a bright Sheikah blue color. “You see, that’s why I was having so many problems with it before. I was trying to tune it to transport me to anyplace I wanted. Then I thought about how we arrived back on that circle in front of the shrine, and I thought, ‘Wait, Purah! What if the shrines and towers were used for teleportation points too?’ And so I made some adjustments and… tested it. And it worked!”

Link stared at her, dumbfounded, but aware of the breakthrough that this must have been for her. Not to mention the incredible boon it could be on his own journey if it worked the way he hoped.

“So I could use that to teleport to any of the Sheikah shrines or towers I find? Can I teleport with my horse?”

“Linky, you’re probably pretty lucky that it doesn’t just teleport your hands, much less a whole horse. I really wouldn’t even recommend trying it.” Purah wrinkled her nose and shook her head. His heart dropped somewhat, his hopes of being able to flit all over the country with ease dashed. “Right now, it is only going to work for just you, honey. Maybe with some more time…” She considered this for a moment but then shook her head, her expression growing more serious. “But no. I can’t keep you here any longer than I need to. I have the Sheikah Slate that I made for myself. It isn’t nearly as… amazing as yours, but I think I can get the teleportation rune working on it too, now that I know better how it works.”

“But I can use it to teleport back here anytime, though? How can you use it to transport to your lab?”

“Click, snappity snap! See that circle on the ground there?” She pointed at the spot she had appeared. “That’s why I built my lab here. I actually think that the ancient Sheikah were planning on building a shrine here, too, but never finished it. I recognized it when I first saw it, since I’d already seen some shrines by then, so I built my lab here. It seemed right, at the time, and now I’m especially glad I did it. Just think—when I get it working on my slate, I’m never going to have to walk back up that hill again.”

Link gave her an honest smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can see that being useful, I suppose.”

“You suppose…” Purah snorted. “All you can think of is how it will be useful in battle, I bet.”

Well, now that she mentions it…

“You’re going to have to use it to come back and visit me.” Her expression had grown serious again. “I need to keep researching your real Sheikah Slate to make sure I get mine just right, and…” Purah’s cheeks flushed slightly and she clasped her hands behind her back, digging her toe into the grass. “It’s good having you back. Well, you’re kind of fun for an old stick-in-the-mud.”

“A… stick in the—”

“At least, that’s what you used to be!”

Oh. She was talking about his former self, then. His mood immediately began to sour again.

“Now, come on! Symin has some stew cooking, and I made sure he made enough for you too.” That did improve Link’s mood some, and he followed her around the lab to another door that led into a much cozier section of the house, where it was warm and the smell of beef and vegetable stew filled the air.

It was sometime later that Purah and Link walked back outside. He approached his horse, placing a handful of additional supplies that Symin had given him into Spirit’s packs. The horse seemed eager to get moving again, and he nickered impatiently. Link grasped the saddle and pulled himself up into it.

“Linky?” Purah looked up at him, that same strange serious expression on her face again. He looked down at her, eyes meeting hers. “I know that you are probably a little… overwhelmed right now. But I think you can do it.”

He gave her the smallest of smiles, though he didn’t truly feel it in his heart. First Rhoam, then Impa, Telma, and now Purah. So many of them seemed confident in him, so why wasn’t he able to feel the same confidence?

“And we’ll help you! Me and Impa and Robbie, too, once we tell him you’re back. Impa might have already done it.”

Link felt a sudden surge of gratitude for the woman standing beneath him, and he gripped Spirit’s reins tightly in order to avoid showing the emotions. It wouldn’t due for Purah to see him growing emotional over such a simple statement. But really, he was grateful. Just hearing that someone else wanted to help him was… something that he truly needed to hear right then.

“Purah, you haven’t…” Link cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. “You keep mentioning Robbie. Who is he? I don’t remember…”

“Oh! Let me see your Sheikah Slate.” Link handed it down to her, and her fingers danced across his screen. She handed it back to him a moment later, and he saw that the screen was showing a photograph.

Three people were standing arm in arm in it. Link immediately recognized the woman in the middle, with her round face and blonde hair. Princess Zelda stood in the photo, her blonde hair flowing down her back like the previous photo he’d seen, though now she had a braid that seemed to form a crown atop her head as well. She wasn’t wearing the white dress this time but wore a blue blouse with golden trim, a white bodice, and a pair of brown tight-fitting trousers. She was smiling much more brightly in this photograph than the others were. At once, he felt that pang in his heart at the sight of the young woman.

On either side of Zelda, two more individuals stood. Both were clearly Sheikah by their red eyes and white hair. One was a young woman, perhaps a few years older than Zelda, but wearing an altogether familiar cheeky grin and an even more familiar owl-shaped bow above her head. Link glanced down at Purah with some surprise, who nodded with a grin.

He looked at the other Sheikah in the photograph. This one was an unfamiliar man with a shock of messy, yet stylish white hair. He was slightly taller than Zelda and had a curved sword attached to his waist. Even in the photograph, his eyes appeared keen and watchful.

His eyes fell back to Zelda’s face. Her cheeks, he noticed, were tinged with what looked like a blush. He squinted at her face, wondering at the redness of her cheeks. Something about the photograph… Something…

“Come on, Zelda! No time like the present!”

“Oh, but I’m not—we were just digging and my hair isn’t quite—”

“Oh, hush, you look as beautiful as ever! Your knight can tell you, won’t you, Linky?”

“What? Purah, that is hardly—”

“Get over here! Link, are you ready to take it? Smile, everyone!”

A lighthouse atop a cliff overlooking the sea. A cool, salty breeze playing across his skin. Two women and a man standing together. The woman in the center was flustered, her cheeks slightly pink, but she smiled, nonetheless. He raised the Sheikah Slate and…

And…

Link gasped sharply and looked around, eyes wide. It was early evening. He was on Spirit. Purah was by his side, and he faintly heard him say his name. She was frowning up at him, concerned.

“Linky? Are you…?”

“Robbie, he… he is the one in this photograph?” Link’s voice cracked slightly, and he swallowed heavily.

“Well, yes. I just said that. He lives up near Akkala now, in an old lighthouse that he turned into his lab. I think he’s been studying Guardians and how to make weapons that are more effective against them. You should probably visit him sometime—maybe if you end up near Death Mountain… Linky, are you sure you’re okay? You look a little…”

“A lighthouse by the sea?”

Purah frowned at him, pursing her lips. “Yes. The one in the photograph. We had gone there because we heard there was a Sheikah shrine that had just been discovered there. I heard you and Princess Zelda were in the area, visiting Death Mountain, and I knew she could never pass up the opportunity to see something new that we’d found, so I sent you two a message to join us.”

He looked back down at the photograph, now able to see the lighthouse, though distantly. He was sure that he hadn’t noticed that while looking at the picture initially. At least, he didn’t think that he had…

“Linky?” Purah reached out, touching his calf with her child-like fingers. “You… remembered something, didn’t you?”

He looked back down at her and, after swallowing again, nodded slowly. “I took the photograph.”

She clapped her hands together in joy. “That’s great! Keep looking at those photos—maybe some more of your memories will come back! Just like Impa thought, actually…” She made a face as if she didn’t like the idea of her sister being right about something. “Still, when you see her, you should mention that you were looking at my picture when you had your first memory.”

“I’m not sure when I’m going to be getting back to see her, but—”

“She didn’t tell you?” Purah’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “The old hag must be getting senile in her old age.” She cackled to herself softly. Link waited for her to finish, which she did a few seconds later. “She asked that you stop back by Kakariko Village. She has something that she wants to give you, and besides, there’s a shrine hidden up in the Kakariko hills. It wouldn’t hurt to activate that one so you can easily transport back there too.”

If she wanted to give me something, why not just do it while I was there? Still, Purah made a good point. If there was a shrine near Kakariko, then it might be very useful indeed to activate it, if only to be able to seek Impa’s advice while on his journey. She certainly seemed to be the one who knew the most of what he needed to accomplish to defeat Ganon—Purah had not seemed to know much of Zelda’s plan in this regard when he asked her during dinner earlier.

He agreed to make one more trip to Kakariko Village before continuing, as Impa had originally suggested, north to visit the Zora—whoever they were. He bid Purah one final farewell and began the long ride back down the hill to Hateno Village. Once he reached the town, he paused at the inn, thinking to stay there one final night, but the sight of the evening crowd in the common area made him rethink the decision.

He found that he truly did not want to be around anyone at that moment, especially considering they might have questions about what he and Purah had been doing with the shrine earlier. Instead, he simply gathered up the last of his things that he had left up by his bed, managed to purchase some simple travel provisions, and set out into the evening.

He eventually made camp in the woods that he’d made camp in on the way into Hateno Village. There, he made a small fire and pulled out the small cookpot that Purah had given him—inspired by the photograph of himself cooking. He set out to prepare a simple meal of fruit and vegetables, but he then noticed a large, dark grey truffle growing nearby, illuminated by his fire. Curiously, he approached it, smiling faintly at the memory of Nat and Meghyn arguing over finding some of these truffles in this forest. He decided to add the truffles to his meal and was quite satisfied with the end result.

After eating, Link spread out his simple bedroll, and for a time, he lay there, gazing up at the stars overhead. It was a clear night, with a light breeze causing the tree leaves to shiver. Nearby, an owl hooted.

“Princess Zelda?” His hesitant voice cut through the quiet. “Princess, can you hear me? Can you speak with me?”

Like before, his voice seemed to fall on deaf ears. He received no response to his queries and felt irritated with himself for even trying. Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes, trying to sleep. Rest, however, did not come easily that night. After for what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, Link finally reached for and turned on the Sheikah Slate. The brightness of the screen blinded him at first, causing him to squint in discomfort at the colorful icons that filled the screen.

He touched the gallery rune, which brought back up the dozens of photographs left behind on the Sheikah Slate. Impa had suggested that they were left there by Zelda in hopes that seeing them might spark some kind of memory in his mind. Clearly, she had been wise to do so, as he believed that just such an occurrence had happened earlier that night, though the memory was little more than vague flashes in his mind. He wouldn’t have even known who any of the people were in the memory, had Purah not told him.

Still, though… It had been something. The first something since he’d woken the week prior.

Link spent a long time looking through the many images on the Sheikah Slate. There were many more of him, several of Zelda, and quite a few of the other four beings that he’d seen the night before. Something about them seemed vaguely familiar to Link, but no amount of effort on his part awakened any distant memory. At one point, he found a photograph of the six of them—himself, Princess Zelda, and the four other beings, all wearing similar blue scarves or sashes. He and Princess Zelda were in the center of the photograph, surrounded by the others around them. The large tan creature with the wide grin stood behind the others and seemed to be embracing them all at once, which had clearly caused some commotion among the others, based on their positions and shocked expressions.

The photograph made Link smile. He certainly could not remember anything about this image—the only one in the Sheikah Slate that showed them all together at once—but it warmed his heart nonetheless to see the apparent friends together. It also occurred to him that he thought he might know who the four beings were.

Mipha, the Zora. Daruk, the Goron. Urbosa, the Gerudo. Revali, the Rito. The four Champions that Rhoam had spoken of. The four Champions that had traveled with Link and Princess Zelda. The four Champions whom had perished in the Divine Beasts when Ganon had broken free.

He shut the Sheikah Slate down, placing it over with the rest of his things. He felt sick to his stomach. Where there had once been six, now there remained only one. His heart ached with shame for a failure that he could not even remember. If he had worked harder, could he have stopped their deaths? Could he have stopped the Calamity Ganon?

Could he now?

The next three days passed in a blur for Link. He tried to avoid looking at the photographs in the Sheikah Slate, though he did occasionally flip through them, wondering if any other memories would be sparked. None were and even the one that he had remembered was little more than a fragment of one.

As he journeyed back towards Fort Hateno, he spotted, again, the orange Sheikah Tower near Hateno Village. He had considered again going to activate it, but when he scouted it, he saw that several groups of monsters had made camps around its base. He decided to keep moving at this time but felt some concern over their proximity to Hateno Village. The tower was at least a day’s travel away from the village, but it was close enough that it could be a viable staging point if they did want to attack.

Deciding that there was no immediate danger to the village or roads—the tower was a good way off from the main road—Link left things as they were. With the Sheikah Slate, he could always come back to check on the monsters’ activity from time to time. He certainly didn’t know if he could clear all of the bokoblins and moblins by himself, though the story of the Hero of Hateno Village gave him some pause. Surely, he hadn’t been alone in that battle, right?

As the sun set over the ridge separating the Blatchery Plain from Hyrule Field at the end of his second day of travel, Link made camp just across the Kakariko Bridge, before the land started sloping upward into the mountain pass that led to the village. He had considered turning south to spend the evening at the Dueling Peaks stable but decided that the additional hours of travel that would be required wasn’t worth it. That evening, he had managed to shoot a rabbit with his bow, so he even ended up well-fed before the last leg of his journey.

Mid-afternoon on the third day brought Link under the wooden arches into the village of Kakariko. He felt the villager’s eyes on him as he climbed down from Spirit’s back and led him through the village. A couple of them greeted him, and one lady tried getting him to shop at her clothing shop, but he pressed on as politely as he could. Finally, he reached the bottom of the hill, where a familiar pair of Sheikah men stood guard over the wooden bridge that led to Impa’s home.

“Welcome back, Link!” Cado called, raising a hand in greeting as Link approached. Dorian greeted Link as well, though he was more reserved than Cado’s. Link found that he enjoyed the presence of these two men, after having spent some time in their presence during his last visit. Dorian, he’d found out, was a single father of two little girls after his wife had passed away long prior. Cado had been married, but it sounded to Link that some kind of disagreement had resulted in their separation.

“Cado, Dorian,” Link said, nodding to each of the older men. “Is Lady Impa available to speak? I was informed that she wished for me to speak with her again before continuing on.”

After a long, pregnant pause, Dorian said, “She told us that she expected you to come back soon, and to allow you to see her whenever you arrived.”

“I’ll have someone take your horse to the inn.” Cado stepped up, taking Spirit’s reins from Link. “I am assuming that you will be staying with us tonight?”

Link glanced up towards the sky, where the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and nodded at Cado gratefully. He began up the wooden bridge suspended over the small moat that seemed to surround Impa’s home. When he reached the top, he noticed that Paya was on her hands and knees next to the door leading inside, scrubbing or maybe polishing the wooden floor.

“Hello, Paya.”

When she heard his voice, she gasped sharply, leaping to her feet. “O-oh! Master Link! I didn’t know that you were coming back.” She paused and her face seemed to turn even redder. “Today, I mean. Grandmother said that you might be back soon, but I didn’t know y-you would be back today.”

Link wasn’t quite sure what to make of Paya. From his perspective, she seemed to have a great deal of difficulty speaking around others, and he wondered if she struggled with anxiety on top of that. She was charming in her own way, however, and always seemed to be hard at work on some kind of project.

“I just came from Hateno Village. Purah told me that your grandmother wanted me to stop here again.”

“Oh, you met my Aunt Purah?” Her face lit up some and she stood up a little straighter. “I spent the summer with her five years ago. We write each other. She can be… eccentric at times.”

Link couldn’t help himself and laughed at this. Paya, in turn, looked somewhat mortified, ducking her head. Her blush reached the tips of her pointed ears. He cleared his throat, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her reaction. “Yes, I think eccentric should about… cover it.”

Despite the awkwardness of the moment, they both shared a slight smile before she announced—a little more loudly than he thought was necessary—that she would go in and make sure that Impa knew of his arrival, and that he was welcome to wait in the audience chamber in the meantime.

When they entered the house, however, both of them were surprised to find Impa already seated on a pillow on the floor, a tray with two cups of steaming tea beside her. The old Sheikah gave him a knowing smile and a wink before looking at Paya.

“Paya, please retrieve the package that I had brought for Link.” She motioned to the other pillow across from her, and Link dutifully sat down after removing his sword and shield, laying to the side. Paya hurriedly went up the stairs to do as she’d been told.

Impa watched the girl go with a fond expression before looking back at him. She fixed him with an even stare, lifting the cup of tea to her lips, sipping at it softly. Finally, when she lowered the cup, she spoke.  “I trust you saw my sister? Did she restore your Sheikah Slate back to working order?”

Link pulled the Sheikah Slate from his belt and activated the Gallery rune before turning it to show her. “I found the photographs. Is that what you—or the princess—meant to help me regain my…”

“Oh.” Impa fixed her eyes on the screen, setting her tea down with suddenly trembling fingers. She reached out and took the Sheikah Slate from him, gazing intently at it. He saw tears at the corners of her eyes, and he was grateful when Paya came down the stairs a few moments later, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a piece of twine.

“Grandmother?” Paya said, concern laced through her voice. She knelt on the ground beside Impa, placing a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Oh, is that the…”

“Yes, dear. That is Princess Zelda.” Impa’s voice was heavy with emotion, and Link fixed his eyes on the wooden floor between them.

“She’s so beautiful…” Paya, oddly, glanced towards Link when she said this. “Oh! And there is Master Link. And… another one of Master Link.”

Link felt his face redden slightly at this. It wasn’t lost on him that there were quite a few photographs of him in the Sheikah Slate. He assumed that was just because the princess had been the bearer of the Sheikah Slate at the time, and since he was always with her, he just ended up being in many of her pictures.

After a few more moments of looking at the pictures, Impa requested privacy for her and Link, and Paya dutifully went back outside, presumably to continue cleaning the deck as she had been doing when he arrived.

Impa cleared her throat and he finally looked back up to meet her eyes. Her eyes looked red, but any signs of the painful emotions she had felt upon seeing the photographs were otherwise gone. She drank her tea again and looked at him patiently, apparently waiting for him to speak.

Link, in turn, took his cup of tea, taking a sip of it. It was warm and pleasant—not at all like that awful Gerudo brew that Telma had given him. He did not immediately say anything either, feeling comfortable in the silence that stretched between them.

Finally, Impa did speak. “Have they assisted with your memory loss?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He had remembered something, yes, but the other things that he felt when looking at the photos were far worse than not remembering anything at all. He still remembered next to nothing, but now he knew that he had failed all of the smiling people in those photos.

“I remembered… something. A fragment.” He grimaced slightly and looked away. “Nothing of substance or use.”

“Link.” Her voice was firm, drawing his eyes back. “I did not send you to Purah in hopes that you would recover memories that would be useful in defeating Ganon. I doubt there will be much at all useful in the memories locked away in your mind—after all, you did not know how to defeat Ganon one hundred years ago.”

He flinched at that and something must have shown on his face for Impa’s voice grew sharper. “Yes, you failed. The princess failed. We all failed. And the kingdom has paid a terrible price for that failure. But you have been given another chance—another opportunity to right the wrong that has befallen Hyrule. Do not be so focused on your failure that you cannot see the hope before you.”

His face grew hot, and he still did not meet her eyes. Impa muttered something about youth before taking a long draw on her tea. When she brought the cup back down, she continued in a softer tone. “I want you to regain your memories for you, as I am sure the princess wished as well. There is much pain in your history, and remembering it will not all be pleasant, but there is also much joy and laughter. You deserve to have those memories back as well.”

“It was only one memory. One simple… event. For all of the other photographs that I’ve looked at, I haven’t remembered anything else.” He chose not to reveal the strange pull he felt whenever he saw photos of Princess Zelda. Something about that felt more private to him.

“And that may be all you ever remember.” Impa nodded sagely. His heart sank. “But I do not think so. Given time, I believe that you will recover more of your memories. Already, these images have helped you, and I would imagine that visiting the places that these were taken at might have an even stronger effect.”

Link felt a stab of worry at this. Was she suggesting that he go to the locations in each of those photos? He expressed these concerns to her, which only made Impa laugh.

“No, fool boy, I do not suggest you try to find each of these places! However, the journey that you must take to free the Divine Beasts is not so different than the one you and Princess Zelda took one hundred years ago. You visited each of the different races in Hyrule to see the Divine Beasts, and that is reflected in these photographs.” She turned the Sheikah Slate around to show him an image of a beautiful white stone city held aloft by stone pillars over a large body of water. He could see some of the strange fish-men and women on the walkways of the city.

“Zora’s Domain,” Impa explained. “That is where I recommend you go first. It is closest and easiest to reach from here, and I have heard some… troubling news from that region recently. I am not sure of its validity, but the Divine Beast appears to be acting in a strange manner. It is possible that it is related to your awakening, but I am not sure.”

He nodded, concerned by the news. When Princess Zelda last spoke to him, she indicated that Ganon did not know of his awakening yet. If he did know now, then what did that mean for the princess? What did that mean for his journey?

“So those are Zora?” he said, finally. Impa gave him a flat look before launching into an explanation that, yes, those were Zora—a race of aquatic people that lived at the mouth of the Zora River. She also showed him the Gorons—the large, rock-like creatures that lived at the base of Death Mountain. The Rito were the avian people that lived to the west, in the Tabantha Frontier. Link was able to guess who the Gerudo were from what little Telma had told him, but Impa informed him of where they lived as well—in the large desert, southwest of Hyrule.

Sometime later, Impa cleared her throat and pushed the small brown package towards him. “I had this made after you left. I apologize that I had to call you back here, but I felt that you should have this.”

He took the package, curious. He untied the twine and carefully unwrapped it. When it was unwrapped, he was shocked to see that it was a sky-blue tunic, matching the tunic he’d worn in the photographs perfectly. White trim formed simple symbols around the waist and sleeves, which he thought might have represented the royal family and the different races of Hyrule, and the trim, likewise, formed what appeared to be a sword that framed the V of the collar. Beneath the tunic was a simple white shirt with bands of red and green color at the collar and around the wrists.

“It is the Champion’s tunic,” she said, looking at him intently. “Each of you had an article of clothing or ornamentation cut to mark you specifically as Hyrule’s Champions. Anyone who would look upon you while wearing that would have known who you were and your purpose.”

His mouth had gone dry. Distantly, he wondered why she would give him this. He was no Champion, was he? In fact, from what he had been able to ascertain, he no longer even had the one thing that set him apart in the first place—he had apparently lost the legendary blade in his battle.

Impa, perceptive as usual, seemed to know some of his thoughts. “I do not believe you ever felt you truly deserved to wear that tunic, even one hundred years ago. But you are our Champion now, just as you were then. I will not mince words with you—we need you, Link.”

He looked back up at her, his voice barely above a whisper. “How can there be no one else?”

“You hold within you the power to defeat Ganon.” Her expression was gentle, but her voice was firm as always. “Just as Princess Zelda did all along, so too do you. You are the one chosen by the Goddess, as you were in ages past.”

He fell silent. The stylized sword on his tunic almost seemed to mock him. “Impa?”

“Yes?”

“What of the sword?”

She remained silent for several moments—something that Link considered to be a bad sign. “The Legendary Blade has had many names over the years. The Blade of Evil’s Bane. The Sword that Seals the Darkness. The Master Sword.” Her voice was carefully controlled, but he could tell that his question concerned her. “You were chosen by it—and it did choose you. No one else could have pulled it from its resting place.”

“But where is it? Won’t I need it?”

Again, she hesitated. “I… do not know, Link.” His heart sank. “It was damaged in your fight against the Guardians before you fell. I never saw it with my own eyes; that information was relayed to me by the princess.

“She assured me that it would be repaired in time, and that it would be revealed to you when it again deemed you worthy of wielding it.”

Link’s fist connected hard with the wooden floor beside him, causing pain to shoot up his arm. He didn’t care. “It will be revealed to me?” His voice came out in a hiss between clenched teeth. “The weapon that is apparently the key to my victory was broken one hundred years ago, and now no one alive knows where it is.”

“The princess—”

“Won’t talk to me! She spoke to me when I woke up, just enough to get me started on this quest, but now, when I try to reach back out to her, she is silent. I can’t—” His throat constricted and he closed his eyes. “I do not know how I can be any more successful now than I was one hundred years ago.”

Impa stood slowly, and he thought that she might be about to walk away. He wouldn’t blame her. He sounded like a petulant child even to himself—how must he look to her? “Link.” Her voice was soft, gentle. He looked up.

She slapped him. Hard.

He yelped, placing a hand on his cheek, and staring up at the old woman with wide eyes.

“You complain that Princess Zelda has not spoken to you in the last week? Boy, she has not spoken to me in one hundred years. Before you showed up here, I did not even know she could still speak. I did not know if she even still truly lived!

“Our princess was seventeen when the Calamity befell Hyrule. And for seventeen years, she worked—every day—to awaken her sealing powers that would enable her to combat Ganon. You traveled with her for a short time but make no mistake. She had been told since she was a little child that she needed to learn to use her powers. She was made to pray to the Goddess every day—every day—for her powers to wake. And they did not.”

“But she—”

“They did not, Link!” Her voice raised, cutting him off. “Not until Ganon had risen and destroyed everything and everyone she had ever loved. Not until her closest friends were killed. Not until you fell in battle. Only after all of that, only then did her power awaken.

“So before you speak of feeling unworthy, before you complain that you do not have the necessary tools, know that Princess Zelda faced that every day for her entire life. And yet, unworthy, untested, having failed her nation, Zelda—our princess—has kept Ganon at bay for one hundred years.” She shoved a finger into his face, causing him to lean back some. “In order to give you time to awaken. Because our princess still needs her knight at her side.”

He stared up at the old woman, shocked by her outburst, and shamed to his core by his own. Every word she spoke was like a knife, cutting pieces of him away to reveal the rot underneath. He felt disgusted by himself.

“Now then,” she said after taking a deep breath. “What will you do? Will you turn away? It is, of course, your choice now, just as it was then.”

He stared down at the blue tunic in his hands and gripped it much tighter now. “No.”

“Link.” He looked up at her, suddenly nervous that she might strike him again. “This journey will get more difficult. I expect the trials you will face will be difficult—more difficult, even, then the ones you faced one hundred years ago. Is this something you are willing to do?”

More difficult trials than the ones he faced one hundred years ago? One hundred years ago, he died facing those trials. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he nodded. “I am.”

Impa smiled in a strangely grandmotherly way. “Good.” She eased herself back down onto her pillow, picking up her tea and taking a sip of it.

“Impa?”

“Yes, Link?”

“How did she do it? If what you say is true, how did she keep going?”

She remained silent for a few moments before smiling. “The princess was strong. She was stronger than anyone had any right to be. Far stronger than anyone, perhaps, gave her credit for.” She paused. “And if you think that is the first time I have slapped a petulant teenager, then you would be mistaken.”

He smiled wryly, rubbing his cheek. “You know, I’m not sure I can be classified as a teenager.”

“Yes, well, I am still your elder. That gives me certain rights.”

He looked back down at the tunic, running his fingers over the fabric.

“You should wear it.” Her voice was gentle, and he met her gaze. “You may not feel worthy, but it will give the people hope. Many may not remember you or what that tunic stood for, but some will. And those some will tell others.”

“I will.”

Link stepped out of Impa’s house, the blue tunic and shirt folded over his arm. When he stepped out, he saw Paya methodically scrubbing one of the wooden banisters. She straightened when she noticed him.

“O-oh, Master Link! I was told to tell you that your horse has been seen to and that a bed is waiting for you at the inn.” Her cheeks were red and it was clear that she had been working hard while he was inside with Impa. Some of her white hair was plastered to the side of her face by sweat.

“Thank you, Paya,” he said, smiling at her. “Have a good evening.” He began down the bridge away from the house.

“M-master Link?” she said, hesitantly. He turned back to face her, curious. “I couldn’t help but to… overhear some of…”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks growing hot. He had hoped that no one else had overheard them.

“Grandmother is well known in town for how effective her slaps are.”

Link stared at Paya for a second, confused, but then his lips split into a grin, despite himself. “Oh, I can believe it.” He rubbed his cheek. It still felt a little tender, and he wondered if there would be a palm mark visible on it.

“I’ve certainly been on the receiving end of a few in my time…” Paya, for the moment, seemed to be speaking easily. She wasn’t looking right at Link, instead she was looking to the distance, a small smile played across her lips.

“Somehow, I can’t imagine you ever doing anything to earn one,” he said, looking at the meticulously clean and polished deck. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not working…”

“O-oh!” Paya’s face suddenly turned a furious red, and she gripped the banister so tightly that it looked like it was the only thing keeping her on her feet. “M-master Link, that is very kind, but—”

“Link.”

“I—what?”

“You can call me Link. Really. I’d actually rather you do so.”

Paya, in that moment, looked quite uncomfortable, and Link worried that he had offended her somehow. She was an incredibly proper woman, very disciplined. He hoped that it was not improper to ask her to drop the “master” when speaking to him.

“I… I-I will. Link.” Paya didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it was a start.

“Thank you.” Link turned and began back down the bridge. “Have a good evening, Paya.”

“Y-you as well, Ma—Link!”

Link glanced back at her once more, seeing that she was watching him as he walked away. When she saw him looking back, however, she squeaked and quickly began polishing the banister again. Chuckling softly to himself, he continued on towards the inn, eager for the warm food and bed within.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

“No, he didn’t, Cottla!”

“Yes, he did, Koko! I saw ‘im!”

“You know better than to make up stories…”

“I’m not makin’ stories! He went there!”

“How could he have? There’s no door.”

“There was!”

Two young girls, sisters, sat crouched in front of the shrine high above Kakariko Village.  The old Sheikah Shrine had always been there, as far as they were concerned. Koko, the eldest of the two, but still a mere child of eight, knew that the old shrine was important because of how Nanna always came up here to clean it of the creeping vines that liked to climb its sides. She was observant like that. Her sister, Cottla, was only five and not nearly as observant. She did have a very good imagination, though.

“Cottla, we need to go back down! It’s almost supper time, and Papa won’t be happy if we’re late!”

Their father was known to the two girls as Papa, though the other townspeople in Kakariko Village called him Dorian. Koko and Cottla’s mother had died two years prior, though Cottla did not really understand that. Koko did, though, and regularly visited her mother’s small grave marker. She did not tell Papa that she knew, though—he had tried very hard to keep them from understanding what had happened to their mother. Koko was observant, though.

“Ko-ko! I wanna see him come out!” Cottla drew her name out in just the way that got on Koko’s nerves.

“Cott-la, he can’t come out… There is no door…”

“Yes, there is!”

The old shrine had changed in the last two weeks. It had sat there, on top of the cliff overlooking Kakariko Village, black and imposing, for a long time. There was only one way up to it—by way of a steep winding path that led up to the Magic Forest—or so Koko and Cottla called it because of the magical lady. Now, however, it had started glowing orange. Actually, it had changed again, as the light around its base was blue while the Sheikah Eye up top was still orange.

Still, though, there was no way that Cottla was right about Link going into the shrine. After all, there were no doors—even if it did look like there should be a doorway. Cottla had probably made it up. Maybe she fell asleep and dreamt it. Sometimes, when they fell asleep in or near the Magic Forest, they had weird dreams of a lady with long, blonde hair and a sparkly necklace, who played with them. Maybe this was just like that.

Finally, feeling agitated with her little sister, Koko grabbed Cottla’s hand tightly in her own, beginning to tug her towards the path that led back down to the village so that they could go home. Cottla struggled, but Koko was bigger and stronger than she was, so she held on tightly.

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue light from behind them, and she quickly turned around, eyes wide, as little blue specks swirled around the circle at the base of the shrine, which also now shone with bright blue light. The blue specks spiraled faster before coming together, taking shape, and fading. In their place, Link stood. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked sad, just like Papa looked some nights when he thought Koko was asleep. He wore a pretty blue tunic, though it was coated with grey dust. His cheek had a scrape on it that had been smeared with blood.

Link turned to look up at the shrine, which, to Koko’s surprise, had now turned all blue, the Sheikah Eye included. She didn’t know what that meant, but Link apparently did, as she saw him nod and turn. His eyes fell on Koko and Cottla and he froze, eyes widening.

“M-mister Link!” Koko couldn’t understand how Link had arrived, or where he had come from. Could Cottla have actually been telling the truth? “Did you… Were you in the shrine?”

He stared at Koko before his posture subtly changed. He stood up straighter, taking a deep breath, and smiling before approaching and kneeling on the dirt in front of them. Koko wondered if that scrape on his cheek hurt—it looked as though it must.

“I was in there. I had to get some things done, and Lady Impa told me I could go in.” He hesitated, looking between Koko and Cottla. Finally, he brought a finger to his lips. “But, shh… It’s a secret.”

Koko nodded, happy to participate in a secret. At least this one was a good secret. Of course, Cottla wouldn’t keep the secret at all. She was not very good at it. She would probably tell everyone in the village before the day was up. Koko would try to rein her in, though.

Link smiled warmly at the sisters and then held up one hand, standing up. He hurried over to a tree growing at the edge of the cliff, where he knelt down and picked something up. A moment later, he approached them again, holding a pair of little yellow flowers.

“Here,” he said kneeling back in front of the girls. He held the flowers out to them, one in each hand. “I saw these and thought that you two might like them.” Naturally, the girl, being only eight and five, were more than delighted to take the little yellow flowers. Koko stuck hers in her hair, while Cottla just held hers tightly in her fist—she’d probably ruin it.

A few moments later, after Link bade them farewell, Koko gave him her best Sheikah bow—she had been practicing in front of her mirror lately—and led her sister down the path, leaving him behind on top of the cliff.

Curse the ancient Sheikah, thought Link as he sat down against the base of the newly activated Sheikah shrine. He reached up and touched his cheek, wincing at the flare of pain. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they wanted to kill me.

This shrine had focused more on utilizing the Remote Bomb Rune, with several sections of wall and doors that he used the bombs to blast through. It had felt strange, destroying parts of the ancient Sheikah shrine, and he found himself wondering at the wisdom of the ancient Sheikah in making a shrine that existed purely to be partially destroyed. At least, he sincerely hoped that was how they meant for him to progress. He hadn’t seen any other ways to do so.

It hadn’t been quite as challenging as the first shrine, but he learned very quickly how far back he needed to stand when blowing up sections of rock. The explosive blasts sent out pieces of shrapnel surprisingly far, as evidenced by his bloodied cheek and several bruises hidden underneath his clothing.

He wore the sky-blue Champion’s tunic, which proved to be an advantageous decision, if not one he was particularly comfortable with. It fit well—almost as if Impa had taken his measurements before having it tailored—and allowed him better freedom of movement than the tunic and armor pieces provided to him by Telma. Ultimately, he had decided to wear it, not for its protective value or greater flexibility, but because some of the members of the Sheikah tribe would still know what the tunic stood for. It would give them hope, and he felt that was the least of what his duty should be.

Even if it was just a false hope.

Sighing softly, he stood, stretching and wincing at a sharp pain in his knee, brought about not by flying shrapnel, but because he had tripped and fallen onto it. He would, perhaps, take Impa up on her offer to have a hot bath drawn for him. He had refused that morning, based purely on the fact that the old woman seemed to be offering it to Link for the express purpose of embarrassing Paya. The younger Sheikah seemed to be very bothered by the thought of him spending time in their bathing chamber. Now, however, it sounded wonderful. He would remain in Kakariko village one more night and, hopefully, depart the next morning for Zora’s Domain, which Impa had marked on his map as being to the north.

As he prepared to walk down the path, something out of the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he glanced towards the forest overlooking the shrine. He glimpsed a flash of blue and frowned, his initial thought that of Sheikah technology. When the light did not reappear, he decided to investigate.

Walking up the hill, he entered the forest, surprised to find it quite dark. The canopy overhead was thick, blocking out much of the sunlight. The darkness was not the only strange aspect about the forest either. It had a peculiar feel to it—it was too quiet and the air felt heavier. As he walked further in, he noticed something else odd. There were no twigs or leaves on the ground. Thick, green grass covered everything, growing shockingly well, regardless of the perpetual shadow created by the canopy of trees. Flowers of every type, shape, and color grew along with the grass.

The hair on his arm stood up as he ventured deeper into the shadowy woods. Nothing seemed disturbed in this place. The grass even seemed to resist his own footprints somehow, springing back up with alacrity after he removed a foot. He did see some animals, however. A large brown squirrel sat on a branch, watching him, and in the distance, through the trees, he could see a buck with massive antlers grazing. The forest seemed frozen in time. Alive and without decay. Ethereal.

Another flash of blue caught his eye, and he tore his eyes from that of the buck’s, which had stopped grazing to watch him. His eyes settled on a spot on the path before him. Standing several paces away was a creature of the likes Link had never seen. It was roughly the size and shape of a large hare, with large hindquarters and a smaller pair of front legs. Its face, however, was anything but rabbit-like. Instead, it appeared to have the head of an owl, with shining yellow eyes and a small, rounded beak. Atop its head were what looked like two fern fronds, sticking up much like a rabbit’s ears would have. Its entire body shone with a bright otherworldly blue glow, lighting the grass around it.

Amazed at the strange animal, he crouched slowly, his eyes never shifting. The creature’s eyes had no pupils, yet Link thought its eyes were locked onto his own. One of its “ears” twitched in a way that seemed to imply curiosity, and it tilted its head to the side slightly. After several moments of silence, it hopped forward a few feet. Link’s eyes widened slightly, and he cautiously reached one of his hands out towards the creature. The creature considered his hand, tilting its head, and Link held his breath. Finally, the blue creature took a few more tentative steps and extended its face towards him. Link felt its beak touch his fingertip.

An electric shock ran up his arm, and he gasped sharply, his entire body tingling with energy. The blue creature pulled back, looking up at him with wide eyes. Those eyes seemed to see into Link, and he imagined that he could see his own shocked expression reflected back at him in their depths.

They remained like this for a time, gazes locked, while the strange energy that Link felt dissipated. As it faded, he found himself wanting to experience the strange feeling again, and he hesitantly reached his hand forward again. This time, however, the blue creature did not reach out and touch him. At his movement, it pulled back, looking at his hand—he could have sworn that it even shook its head very slightly. Then, startling him with its suddenness, it turned and darted away into the brush. The blue light winked out, and the forest, which had seemed so bright in the creature’s presence, grew dark once more.

Link waited for the creature to reappear. It had run into a bush, but surely it would come out, glowing brightly and bathing the forest in its soothing light again. But it soon became apparent to him that whatever the creature had been, it would not be reappearing. Its light had disappeared completely, and the bush didn’t so much as quiver.

He stood on shaky legs, looking around the dark forest. It had grown still. He could no longer see the buck or the squirrel from earlier. The strange heaviness about in the air remained, however, and he decided that his curiosity had been sated for the time being. As he walked back out, he did not notice that his knee no longer ached. It would not be until later that evening, as he prepared for the hot bath that he requested from Impa, that he would notice that, underneath the dried blood, his cheek was whole and unblemished.

When he did notice these strange things later that evening, his mind was drawn back to the curious blue rabbit-like creature and the energy he felt at its touch. What sort of animal could heal with a touch and disappear into thin air? He never asked Impa, however. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt too personal.

The next morning, he departed Kakariko Village just before dawn. Though many of the villagers were still asleep or about their chores, some had gathered to see him off, holding torches aloft to light his path out of the village. Like the day before, he wore his blue tunic, which he had cleaned of dust and debris from the shrine’s challenges the day prior. He wore his sword and Sheikah shield upon his back, for good measure.

He could provide hope.

He rode out through an alternate path that took him through another, narrower pass that led out onto a high ground overlooking what Impa had called the Lanayru Wetlands. This route was much shorter than the route that Telma had taken to get to Zora’s Domain; she had traveled back out and around the Dueling Peaks before turning north. However, it was also one that would have been impossible for her to take with her cart, due to the lack of any consistent road once out of the pass and the at-times steep decline that led down before finally reaching the distant road.

As Link rode out of the pass, his eyes were, once again, drawn to the distant Hyrule Castle. He was quite a bit closer to it than he had been before, and he could make out certain details better now. A series of massive pillars that looked distinctly Sheikah in nature, jutted out of the ground surrounding the castle. They appeared to be as tall as the castle’s tallest towers and glowed with a strange reddish light, rather than the typical blue or orange. To Link’s reckoning, it appeared there were five of them surrounding the castle and town ruins at the base of the castle.

He sat atop Spirit, rigid, eyes fixed on the distant castle. Would he see the great beast rise up once again? If Ganon did show itself again, would it sink back down within the castle, as before, or would it finally break free of Princess Zelda’s grasp? How much longer could Zelda contain Calamity Ganon? Would Link, despite his best efforts, be too late to change anything? Had he been resurrected just to watch the land fall again?

He grimaced, looking away from the castle, ashamed of his thoughts. Thankfully, as he carefully rode Spirit down the incline to where he could get back on the distant road, Ganon did not rise above the castle. It would seem that the princess was still doing her duty. The least Link could do was his.

The sun had dipped below the western horizon by the time Link reached the Wetland Stable. The first detail that struck him as he approached the squat building, was that its proximity to Hyrule Field and the castle had clearly governed how this traveler’s waystation had been built up over time.

Situated on a hill overlooking a south-flowing river that ran between the Lanayru Wetlands and the Hyrule Field, the Wetland Stable had been clearly built with its defense in mind. The forests around the stable had been cleared of trees, and much of the wood have been used to form walls of sharpened pickets that surrounded the stable. Furthermore, two watch towers had been built, one each to the north and south, and Link could see a guard in each one, armed with bows.

There were several buildings in addition to the stable, but the closest was shaped like a long rectangle. From this building, he saw a man wearing leather armor and wielding a spear walk out. Perhaps a barracks of sorts? The stable, however, appeared much like the other stable he had seen, albeit somewhat larger and with an area in its yard devoted to wagons and carts.

As Link approached, he noted a patch of burnt grass just inside the picketed perimeter, and several broken arrows sticking out of the ground just outside of the perimeter. Not only was this waystation prepared for battle, but it had also seen it and recently. He felt an odd mixture of apprehension and happiness to see others fighting back.

He expected to be stopped by the guards in the towers, but no one said anything as he maneuvered Spirit into the yard. Now that he was closer to the stable, he could hear sounds of music and singing coming from the inside of the stable, which had the immediate effect of lifting his spirits. He dismounted, handing Spirit’s reins to a stable boy, and walked towards the stable’s entrance.

Once he entered, he was greeted with a sight that was both delightful and slightly confusing. The large common room had quite a few wooden tables set up in rows, and many of the benches were lined with men and women in leather armor, as well as a smaller number of people that looked to be travelers or merchants. Several servers weaved between the tables, carrying drinks or platters of food. The people in the common room seemed happy, talking amongst themselves, laughing, or singing. The reason for this was clear as Link’s eyes swept the common room.

In the back of the room, on a platform made up of a large wooden box, stood one of the members of the Rito race. The Rito was tall—significantly taller than Link and broader of chest and shoulder—with blue and white plumage and a large black beak. He eagerly played an instrument like an accordion while singing along with a deep, resonant voice. His clearly enjoyed playing; though his beak was rigid, something about his eyes and other facial muscles gave the impression of a broad smile.

As Link crossed the room to a table to listen and, hopefully, order a meal, the Rito’s eyes fell on him. For the briefest of moments, the Rito’s music faltered. His golden eyes met Link’s blue, sharp and focused, but then closed. The music continued. If the other patrons had even noticed, they said nothing. Link hesitated before sitting down on a bench, however. Something about that expression gave him the impression of recognition. Finally, he pushed such thoughts from his mind as paranoia and sat.

Several minutes later, the Rito ended his song with a smattering of applause from the gathered patrons. He smiled and gave a slight bow before his eyes roamed over the gathered people. A few of the drunker patrons began to shout out song requests, but the Rito simply raised one feathered hand while precariously balancing his accordion with the other, his eyes, again, falling on Link, who had just ordered his meal.

“Friends, friends…” The Rito lowered his hand to his accordion and played a long, sweet note. “There will be more time for requests, I assure you. After all, the night is young yet. But first, I feel inspired to play a song that has been handed down since ancient times. It is a song of heroes and villains, courage and magic, and a great victory. It is a true story, though one from long ago.” The crowd responded positively, which caused the Rito to smile and begin to sway slightly as he played additional notes on his accordion, slow and methodical.

“The kingdom of Hyrule is a vast and storied land, oft grasped in the palm of a villainous hand,” he began to sing, his voice warm and commanding. The rest of the room fell silent, with even the servers pausing in their work to watch.

“A dark force of destruction, many times undone, rises once again—Ganon, the calamitous one.”

Link’s blood ran cold.

“But hope survives in Hyrule, for all is not lost, two brave souls protect it, no matter the cost. A goddess-blood princess and a fearless knight, they appear in each age to fight the good fight. Their battle with Ganon committed to song, to keep it through time, no matter how long.”

Panic gripped him, and he wanted nothing more than to leave this place, to continue his travels. He had not wished to be cornered with his failure once again this night, to be reminded of all that he couldn’t remember.

“Now begins the second verse, listen and you'll know, of their battle with Ganon ten thousand years ago. The kingdom of Hyrule was once a land of lasting peace; a culture of such strength and wit, that suffering did cease. But Ganon lurked beneath the surface, strengthening its jaws, so the ancient people of Hyrule set out to help the cause.

“Their efforts bore fruit in an automated force, to help avert Calamity by sealing it at its source. Four giant behemoths for which power never ceased, each of these titans was called a ‘Divine Beast.’ And free-willed machines that hunted down their prey, these Guardians were built to last so they could join the fray.”

He remained rooted to his seat, though his face felt flushed and his hands gripped his knees tightly under the table. The song spoke of what Impa and Rhoam had told him—of the legendary hero, his predecessor, that had defeated Ganon so many years ago. He felt a strange mixture of shame and relief to know that the song was, at the very least, not about him personally.

“To guide the beasts in battle, warriors were needed, so four Champions were pledged to see Ganon defeated. Divine Beasts, Champions, princess, and knight, their plan to rout Ganon with all of their might. And when Calamity Ganon reared its head, Hyrule rose against it, the optimism of Hyrule all the more incensed it.

“Ganon raged in its assault, boiling with hate; it gnashed its teeth and thrashed about, but it was all too late. The Guardians kept the heroes safe through every hour, the Divine Beasts unleashed attacks that weakened Ganon's power.”

The song seemed… familiar to Link. Something, in the dark, impenetrable recesses of his memory seemed to click into place. Even though he could not remember anything specific, he was certain that he had heard this song before, but when? The Rito had stated the song was from ancient times—could he truly have heard it in his past?

“The hero with the sealing sword struck the final blow, and the holy power of the princess sealed Ganon so. And that is the story of the brazen attack, on Calamity Ganon 10,000 years back."

The Rito stopped singing, playing his slow, somber tune for several additional seconds before finishing one with final, long note. For a long time, silence reigned in the common room. The silence was eventually broken by one man, whose words slurred with drunkenness.

“Hey, Kass! I thought you said that was a true story!”

The Rito named Kass turned to the man and smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “I did.”

“Then why, in the gods’ names, is that castle standing destroyed, and why do I have to fight off monsters every other day?”

Kass’ smile faltered slightly, but inclined his head in acknowledgement. “This song, of course, spoke of the ancient hero and princess from ten thousand years past, who achieved victory against the Calamity Ganon. These were not the same individuals that fought against Ganon one hundred years ago, before the Age of Burning Fields.”

“Obviously!” A woman near spoke this time, and several others muttered agreement with her. Link felt his heart sink even further.

“Friends,” Kass said, holding up one more calming hand. “The story from one hundred years ago is another tale, indeed, and not one that I am prepared to tell this evening. However, in the defense of the princess and her knight, the Calamity Ganon has been subdued, at least for a time.”

The woman beside Link snorted derisively. “And a good lot that has done us! You can’t walk one hundred feet into Hyrule Field without being ambushed by monsters, or worse. No princess, no hero, and that creature hovering over the castle… My daughter keeps having nightmares about it! The only reason I don’t take her and go is because I don’t think there’s any place that will be safe when it does come for us.”

Link abruptly stood from the table, causing a handful of people to glance at him, Kass included. He ignored them and stepped outside of the stable, taking a deep, shaky breath of the cool night air. It had gotten dark, and the stars twinkled in the night sky. He leaned against the outer wall of the stable, wishing he could just melt into it and disappear. He wondered if, perhaps, he should just use the Sheikah slate to teleport back to Kakariko Village or even Hateno. Or gods, maybe the damned Great Plateau. Perhaps another hundred-year slumber would do him some good.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying not to think of his lost memories, his failure, or his shame and, of course, thinking of all of these things in turn. He heard the soft footsteps approaching and, with a sigh, opened his eyes, thinking it to be a server there to collect payment. With some surprise, he found Kass standing beside him.

“Good evening.” Kass bowed his head in greeting, which Link returned, hoping that might be the end of it. It wasn’t, and the Rito continued speaking. “You are an unfamiliar face to me—I tend to pride myself in knowing most of the travelers in this region of the country. They tend to have some of the best stories, you see.”

Link considered his words carefully, having learned his lesson about poorly thought out lies. He knew some things a little better now, at least. “I’m from Hateno Village. Have you… been there?”

Kass tilted his head slightly. “Hateno? No, I must confess that my travels have not yet taken me that far east, though I hope to do so soon.”

Link relaxed and allowed himself a small smile. “It is a nice village. Home.” He reflected as he spoke that he hadn’t yet told a lie. He was from Hateno Village—just the Hateno of one hundred years prior.

“If you do not mind my asking, what brings you so far west and north?” Kass had a very refined way of speaking with a deep voice that Link had, frankly, not expected from a race of avian people. What had he expected, though? Squawks?

“I’m traveling to—” He hesitated for just a moment before deciding the truth would serve him just fine in this case. “Zora’s Domain.”

Kass’ eyes widened and he smiled. “To Zora’s Domain, you say? What a wonderful coincidence! I, too, have begun a trek to Zora’s Domain. I’ve heard of some troubles with the ancient Divine Beast there, and I wished to see it for myself.”

Link’s heart sank. This seemed to be quite an unfair turn of events. “You are… investigating the Divine Beast?”

“Oh! You know of the Divine Beasts, then? Wonderful! Many people that I have spoken to from your region are not particularly aware of such things. One hundred years is not quite enough time for their existence to fall into legend, but some are simply… unaware of their veracity. In fact, many children I speak to—oh!” Kass appeared embarrassed, the feathers around his neck puffing out slightly. “Forgive me, I do not mean to compare you to a child.”

Link shook his head to indicate no offense taken, after which Kass looked relieved. He smiled.

“I merely meant that, unless you live in the shadow of one such creation, it is easy to dismiss them as fables or exaggerations. We Rito, naturally, have lived within a short flight of Vah Medoh for the last one hundred years, so their truth is not lost on us.”

Vah Medoh. The Divine Beast piloted by the Rito, Revali. A Champion that perished at Ganon’s rise. The facts played through Link’s mind like a mantra. He had done his best to commit these things to memory since leaving Kakariko Village. He may not remember them, but he could at least know of them.

“But of course, you asked me a question, did you not? You asked if I was investigating the Divine Beast Vah Ruta. That is not my intent, exactly, no. You see, I am a traveling minstrel, as I am sure you may have guessed. I once studied under the renowned Sheikah poet, Rao, who was the Court Poet for the Royal Family before their fall one hundred years ago.”

Kass turned, glancing towards the distant castle. The red haze shone around the castle, lightly illuminating its lower sections. Thankfully, no beast rose up over it. “He long wrote and sung of the time and heroes from before the Calamity, you see. Specifically, of the princess Zelda, her knight, and the four Champions that fought to prevent Ganon’s rise.”

Oh, that is just fantastic, Link thought. Of all the people he could encounter by chance, it had to be a traveling Rito with intimate knowledge of the past. “Is that so?”

“And I am continuing my late master’s life work in my travels. I am traveling to Zora’s Domain now with the hopes that I may discover more of Mipha, the Zora Champion, in order to continue my master’s epic, which he left, tragically, unfinished when he perished many years ago.”

Link hid a grimace, looking at the grass by their feet while considering Kass’ words. Absently, he wondered how this kept happening to him. He supposed that it shouldn’t have been too surprising—one hundred years wasn’t so long that his failures would just be forgotten, even if most of those alive today did not know his identity.

“Is… everything all right?” Kass looked at him curiously, and he felt his face flush. “You look concerned.”

“Oh, I just—” He faltered. “It’s just… sad. What happened to her, and the other Champions.”

The Rito nodded sagely. “Yes, indeed. A true tragedy. Such hopes were placed upon the six, and for it all to end so direly…” Silence fell between them for a time before Kass continued. “Of course, I do not fully believe that all hope is lost.”

Link looked up at Kass, eyebrows raised. When Kass saw his expression, he chuckled softly.

“Well, perhaps it is my tendency to prefer stories with a happier ending, but I believe that these things work themselves out more often than not.”

“But they lost.”

“Did they?”

“They all died.”

“Did they?”

Link’s voice caught, and he stared up at Kass’ golden eyes. Those golden eyes seemed too knowing to him. Finally, the Rito smiled and shrugged his feathery shoulders.

“Of course, the six are no longer with us. Certainly, the four Champions perished in the battle. The Knight, legends tell, fell at the princess’ feet in the shadow of Fort Hateno. The princess, however…” He looked towards the castle. “My master spoke of her and how she went, alone, to the castle and faced Calamity Ganon with her sealing powers. And here we are; alive, so many years later.”

“What about what that woman said? The monsters are terrorizing travelers. From what I’ve seen, few even venture west of the Dueling Peaks.”

Kass nodded in acknowledgment. “What you speak of is true. But I would suggest that the proliferation of monsters along our roads is not the fault of the six.” When Link opened his mouth to object, Kass held up a hand. “Please, let me explain. From what I have heard, it is true that the monsters have gained strength since Ganon’s reemergence. But they existed prior to its rise and will likely continue to exist if it is defeated.

“Before the fall of Hyrule, the king did not rely on Princess Zelda to patrol the roads for moblins, however. That duty was left to common soldiers. Now, of course, we lost much of the organized military in Ganon’s attack. But you cannot tell me that others could not rise up to fight back!”

 “But if all the soldiers and knights died—” Link said, but Kass had, apparently, not finished.

“You look as if you are a warrior. I would hazard a guess that you have, indeed, fought some of these creatures, have you not?” Link nodded reluctantly, and Kass smiled in triumph. “See? If we simply had more individuals like you, perhaps we could secure these roads once again. All of the races have warriors. The Sheikah are still renowned for their abilities in stealth and precision, Gorons are capable of repelling entire groups of enemies alone, the Zora are swift and still have a standing military force, the Gerudo are an entire race of warriors, and we Rito are known to be the finest archers in the land. You Hylians, of course, have a history full of great and noble warriors.

“So what excuse do we have? The Great Calamity was disastrous, yes, but it was also one hundred years ago. However, instead of reclaiming the sections of our land that have been lost to Ganon’s minions, we, instead, appear to be waiting to die. Or, perhaps, to be rescued.”

Link remained silent, eyes focused on the distant castle. He didn’t know how to respond to all of that. He wanted to take hope in what he said, to be able to pass some of the blame for the nation’s state on to others, but how could he? This would have never even happened, were it not for his failure.

Kass did, eventually, break the silence with a softer tone. “I apologize if I caused any offense. I did not mean to imply that individuals such as you should be doing more. Only that we, the various peoples of Hyrule, should be working together, rather than taking refuge in our homes.”

Link shook his head, exhaling slowly. He still wasn’t sure what he could say, so he chose to say nothing.

“It also occurs to me that I never asked your name. That seems inexcusably rude on my part, so, please. You know my name; might I know yours?”

“Link.”

“Link?” Kass’ tone was curious. Link’s blood ran cold and he inwardly cursed himself. Why would he have used his real name when talking to this person, who clearly knew much of the past? “It is fascinating, then, that you wear that tunic.”

“Is it?” He tried to keep his voice carefully even, but he still refused to meet Kass’ eyes. He did not want to see that knowing expression.

“It appears to be the same color worn by the Champions of old, based on what I have been told. And Link was the name of the princess’ knight and wielder of the Master Sword.”

“I… didn’t know that.” Link forced himself to meet Kass’ gaze and smile in what he hoped was an innocent fashion.

“Yes, well, such details are often lost to time. The hero’s name, especially, often appears to change in stories and myths, depending on the person telling the story. Some even mistakenly call him by the princess’ name, as silly as that might sound.” Kass chuckled softly. “But my master actually knew the man, and he informed me that his name was Link, just like you.”

“That is strange.” Link broke eye contact, gazing out towards the castle once more.

Sometime later, Kass cleared his throat. “It is clear that these subjects give you pause. I apologize for any discomfort caused by my musings.”

Link sighed and looked over at Kass, shaking his head. “No, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind. It isn’t your fault.”

Again, the Rito gave him that piercing stare. “Then, perhaps, can I suggest you try the Volt Fruit ale? I have heard from many patrons that it does wonders. It tends to do wonders for my purse as well.”

Link laughed softly as he pieced together the Rito’s meaning. Kass opened his beak in what was clearly a grin. The joke finally allowed Link’s shoulders to relax again, and he turned away from the sight of the dark castle.

The rest of the night passed much easier for him than it had begun. They eventually went back inside, and he enjoyed listening to Kass’ music and storytelling, none of which featured him or his previous incarnation.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Kass did not travel with Link the next day, as Link rode while he flew. Link found that he liked the Rito, for all the discomfort that their meeting had caused the day prior. Thankfully, Kass seemed to understand that the subject of the Calamity was a sensitive one for him, and it was not brought up again. And despite some nervous curiosity, Link never asked what Kass knew of his actual past. With both of those uncomfortable topics out of the way, however, they were able to speak much more comfortably with each other as the night wore on, and Link was able to find out some key information about Hyrule that he hadn’t gotten yet from the others that he’d met.

Still, though, as he set out the next morning, he found himself hoping that Kass would have moved on from Zora’s Domain by the time he reached it in three or four days’ time. It would make it much easier for Link to engage with the Divine Beast without having to worry about a traveling minstrel passing word of his deeds all over the land. That was, of course, assuming he would be able to figure out what exactly he needed to do with the Divine Beast. And that he would even survive the attempt.

As the sun began to dip towards the west, Link saw the first signs on oncoming rain. The dark mass of clouds were just visible over the mountains surrounding Zora’s Domain.

“I guess we’ve got another soggy night ahead of us,” he said, patting Spirit’s neck. The horse turned its head, looking back at Link with one large, brown eye. “If I can find shelter, I will.”

Spirit snorted, turning his head forward again. Link pursed his lips but then thought better of it. He was the one who had taken to talking to his horse and interpreting its responses, after all.

But the rain did not come that night. In fact, it didn’t seem to grow any closer as they continued on and the sun set. When he woke the next morning to see mass of roiling rain clouds still present over Zora’s Domain, he realized that this was something different. Something concerning. Potentially far worse than a cold and wet night.

The river that he traveled parallel to gradually began to swell—the waterline growing higher and the current stronger—as he got closer to Zora’s Domain, finally reaching the point that it began to spill over its banks. More than once, Link had to carefully guide Spirit through shallow water that had washed out the road.

Finally, in the early afternoon of his third day out from Kakariko Village, the world grew dark and wet. He had ridden into the rain, which had still not moved from its spot over Zora’s Domain. The clouds, nearly black overhead, spat rain in an unending deluge that almost immediately soaked through Link’s cloak and clothes. The road grew muddy and treacherous, and Spirit’s hooves made loud, sucking noises each time they lifted up out of the muck.

Link could see a Sheikah Tower in the near distance but didn’t dare try to climb it. Instead, he leaned low over Spirit’s saddle, patting the horse’s neck with a comforting hand. Spirit had grown agitated ever since entering the rain, and he could hardly blame him. Nothing about this rain felt natural. It was too heavy to be this consistent. But for all the heavy rain, there was no other indications of a storm. No lightning, no thunder, and no wind to speak of. Just a steady, torrential downpour.

He wasn’t at all sure how long it took before he saw the bridge. It crossed over the river, which had grown extremely violent now that he was in the midst of the rain. The bridge was made of white stone and was flanked on either side by a pair of beautiful watchtowers. The watchtowers each had a base made of slightly translucent crystal that shone with an inner blue-white light. Grey stone crisscrossed up the white crystal before forming a platform at the top, as well as a central pillar that rose up, topped with another crystal that, likewise, shown with blue-white light. The effect was stunning, and Link knew that when he crossed the bridge, he would be within Zora’s Domain.

Disconcertingly, he did not find either watchtower manned by one of the aquatic race—something that he felt was probably a bad omen. Kass had spoken of troubles with the Divine Beast, and now this rain… Link worried that he had, somehow, been too late.

The roar of the river under them nearly drowned out the clip-clop of Spirit’s hooves as they crossed the stone bridge and into Zora’s Domain. The muddy road continued after the bridge, circling around a wider section of river that spilled over its banks, covering part of the road in water. Grimacing, Link pushed Spirit on through the shallows, to where the road circled around the face of a sheer rock wall.

As he rounded the wall, something felt off to him. He felt a prickling at the back of his neck, as if he were being watched. He looked around, frowning. He had rounded another corner as the path looped back, climbing to the top of the wall he had just passed by. Thick trees lined either side of the road, their branches bending low under the weight of the rain water. Puddles formed on the path, and Spirit’s hooves splashed loudly as he crossed through them.

Cautiously, Link drew his sword and shield. Instinct told him that he was being watched, and he scanned the trees all around. Nothing moved, with the exception of the heavily laden tree branches. Rain continued to fall, making it difficult to see very far into the trees, and water constantly dripped into his eyes. His sodden hood sagged, and he reached up, attempting to straighten it. It did not help much.

To make matters worse, night had begun to fall. Everything grew darker, further obscuring the forest. He was being watched. Link was certain of it. He felt their eyes on him, waiting for the opportune to strike. He felt blind.

After several tense minutes of waiting, Link chose to press on as the trees around him fell into darkness. He had no torch or lantern—and neither would likely work well in this rain—so he was forced to rely on his own limited night vision to see the path. Spirit, thankfully, needed little guidance and seemed to feel the same unease that Link did. He moved at a brisker pace than before, despite the way that his hooves sank deeply into the mud with every step.

The rain’s muffling effect was likely the reason he didn’t hear the battle much earlier. In fact, it wasn’t until he was nearly upon it that he saw the hazy blue lanterns that had been thrown to the ground and heard the clash of metal weapons upon metal shields. However, as he rounded a small bend in the trees, finally seeing these things, several things happened all at once.

Movement ahead. A group of shapes, some standing tall with silvery weapons and shields, and some hunched low to the ground wielding weapons of black metal, clashed with surprising speed. Something hissed from the trees to Link’s left. Someone screamed. Something hit Link with enough force to drive him off of Spirit’s back and to the ground.

That he’d already had his sword and shield ready saved his life. For a moment, Link thrashed with the thing on top of him, which seemed to be all sharp teeth and claws. The thing’s attacks were wild, however, and Link had his shield between his body and the thing attacking him, which protected him from the worst of the attacks. The attacks weakened after a few moments, and the creature released a pained hiss before finally, slumping. Link’s sword had pierced the creature’s gut when it pounced on Link, and the creature’s own thrashing likely only hastened its demise.

Disgusted, he shoved the creature, which was larger than him by at least a head, off and rolled to his feet. Nearby, Spirit stamped his feet nervously, and ahead, the two forces clashed. Vaguely illuminated by the blue lanterns on the ground, Link could see that the taller individuals matched up with what he’d seen and heard of the Zora—skin of varying hues of blue and red, with long legs and arms ending in webbed appendages, fins at the elbows, and heads of various shapes, each with their own fins and tail-like protuberances at the back. The enemies that they faced were large and lizard-like, with long, hunched torsos, long snouts with razor teeth, and wicked claws on their feet and toes.

The Zora were outnumbered, surrounded on all sides by their lizard foes, who appeared to have attacked from the trees. However, the Zora were clearly the more skilled group, having fallen into a circle formation with their backs to each other, each wielding a long silver spear and silver shield with enough sharp edges to be a weapon in its own right. Their blue lanterns had each been dropped in a circle around the group of Zora, providing enough illumination to see any approaching enemy.

As Link watched, one of the lizards lunged forward, trying to stab a Zora with a spear of its own, but in perfect coordination, the Zora blocked the attack with her shield while her partner beside her thrust his spear into the lizard’s chest. In Link’s brief estimation, it seemed to him that the Zora, with their strong defensive line and coordination, would be the victors in this fight without his assistance. However, a moment later, he saw a flash of yellow light from within the tree line.

“Shock arrows!” The cry came from someone within the Zora circle, and the group immediately broke, diving for cover. A yellow-tipped arrow shot out from the trees, landing in a puddle right where the group of Zora had been standing. There was a flash of light and yellow arcs of electricity danced across the puddle. One of the Zora had been too slow, his foot still in the puddle when the arrow struck. He screamed in agony, body growing rigid as the arcs of electricity shot up his body.

“Rivan!” One Zora that stood slightly taller than the rest threw aside his spear and dove for the Zora that had been frozen in place by the electrical current. When they collided, there was a flash of lightning, and the tall Zora cried out, even as he succeeded in tackling the other Zora out of the puddle.

Link sprinted into the forest where the arrow had come from. He found a dark-skinned lizard preparing to string another of the yellow-tipped arrows—its last, as evidenced by the empty quiver at its waist. He thrust his sword into the creature’s side, causing it to hiss in fury, dropping the bow and arrow before leaping back and pulling free of Link’s sword. The creature placed a clawed hand against its pierced side, looking down at it and then up again at him. Its eyes seemed to catch some faint light and shone in the dark night.

Link had really hoped that his thrust would be fatal. It would appear, however, that this night just wasn’t going the way he had hoped.

The lizard rushed forward, hunching over and zigzagging across the ground with shocking speed. It had no weapons, so it brandished its claws in a deadly manner. Thinking to end the fight quickly, Link slashed, but the lizard dodged to the side easily before leaping towards him, hissing loudly. He deflected one of the clawed hands with his shield, but a flare of pain in his arm told him the other struck home. He set his jaw against the pain and stumbled back.

The lizard gave him no chance to catch his breath. It leaped forward, teeth-filled maw open and aimed for his throat. He ducked and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding its attack. They traded blows for a time, neither quite gaining the advantage. Though Link was an excellent swordsman, the muddy terrain and darkness seemed to favor the lizard.

He managed to catch the creature’s tail, cutting off the last foot or so of the writhing appendage. The lizard hissed furiously, whirling and slashing its claws. One of its hands grabbed the lip of his shield and ripped it free of his forearm.

He spun away from it, swinging his sword in a wide arc, and the lizard jumped back. It bent low, hissing its threat while its eyes reflected the pale light of the blue lanterns behind him on the path. Link waited. The lizard didn’t. It leaped, its clawed feet forward, talons angled towards his chest. He sidestepped and swept his sword up, into the monster’s chest, cutting deep. The lizard’s body folded over his blade, and its momentum ripped Link’s sword out of his hand. The lizard hit the ground and rolled to a stop.

He didn’t wait to see if it would rise. He raced towards it, pulling free the Guardian sword from the Sheikah Shrine. The blade appeared, glowing brilliantly blue and humming, and he turned it upside down, plunging it down into the lizard’s prone body. The lizard spasmed violently, kicking out with clawed legs and arms, and then grew limp.

He retrieved his fallen sword and placed the Guardian sword back at his waist. Sounds and shadows from the path alerted him to the ongoing fight there, so he found the spot where the lizard had been providing overwatch. There, he was dismayed to see that the battle had gone poorly for the Zora after the electric arrow’s strike. Two of the Zora were down, and the remaining Zora had formed up around them, but injuries or exhaustion had clearly slowed their reflexes. As he watched, one of the lizards rushed forward, dodging a spear thrust, and slashed one of the Zora in the thigh with its claws. She cried out, falling to one knee, as her companion warded the lizard back with his spear.

Link sheathed his sword and snatched up the lizard’s discarded bow and yellow-tipped arrow. As he drew the arrow, he was surprised to see its tip burst into light, crackling with electric energy. His arm spasmed as the electrical energy, not contained to just the arrow tip, lanced back and into his hand. The shock nearly made him release his grip on the arrow, but he set his jaw and turned his aim on a group of lizards that were preparing to launch another attack on the Zora. Remembering the tactic used earlier, he aimed low for the puddle of water they stood in and loosed the arrow.

The relief in his arm when he released the arrow was immediate, and he dropped the bow and flexed his fingers. The arrow flew true, striking the water with a small splash and a bright flash of electrical light. The lizards, caught completely unaware, hissed in agony as arcs of electrical energy ran up their bodies.

For one frozen moment, the remaining Zora and lizards turned, confused at the state of the other foes, who began to collapse, still twitching from the electric shock. Then the Zora rallied and broke from their defensive circle, bellowing war cries. The remaining lizards, confused by their fallen brethren, stood no chance and were quickly cut down by the silvery Zora spears.

Link stepped out of the trees slowly, and when the Zora contingent turned their spears on him, he raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. Like he expected, the Zora all glanced at each other before lowering their spears. What he hadn’t expected was one of the Zora to suddenly say, “Link? Is that you?”

“Link?” The Zora with the hurt leg looked up, eyes widening. Her skin was a pale violet color, different from the others.

“Link? It can’t be Link. He died when…” Another Zora looked at him, his expression confused. The light of recognition shone in his eyes. “By the Goddess…”

Link stood frozen. Somehow, these Zora—at least some of them—seemed to know exactly who he was. The group of Zora appeared to see the confusion on his face, for a dark blue-skinned member approached, smiling.

“It’s me, Bazz! You… might actually not recognize me. I was a lot younger when you last saw me, and it’s been one hundred years. It…” The Zora named Bazz frowned. “It’s been one hundred years. And you don’t look a day different from the last time I saw you. That’s not normal for Hylians, is it?”

“I-I don’t…” Link sputtered, eyes wide. He suddenly regretted ever agreeing to Zora’s Domain. Why hadn’t someone told him that there would be Zora alive that still recognized him? How was that even possible? He didn’t know much (or, really, any) about Zora physiology, but shouldn’t they look older?

“Gaddison, it can’t be him,” one of the Zora said, looking at the violet-shaded female Zora. “He’s dead.”

“Rivan, look at him,” said the violet Zora named Gaddison.

“I am and—”

“I don’t remember any of you,” Link said. There was no point in letting this go on longer than it needed to. “I am who you think I am, but I… I don’t have any memories.”

Silence followed his pronouncement. Several pairs of Zora eyes fell on Link, and he cursed whatever gods brought him to this point. He cursed Impa and Purah for not preparing him. He even began to curse the princess for even saving him in the first place but stopped himself.

A pair of webbed hands clapped together, causing the contingent of Zora to stand up straighter. The tallest Zora, red-skinned and with epaulettes somehow stuck to his shoulders, walked around from behind the other Zora, smiling broadly and revealing a row of sharp teeth.

“Well I, for one, don’t care who you used to be,” he said, walking over. Abruptly, Zora reached out, taking Link’s hand, and shook it enthusiastically. “Because you just saved our lives! If you hadn’t come along when you did, I’m not sure we would have all made it out of there alive.”

The tall Zora, still shaking Link’s hand, looked back at the others. “Guardsmen! We owe this Hylian our lives, but it wouldn’t do to just stand here waiting for another group of lizalfos to ambush us, would it?” His voice carried an air of relaxed authority. “Spread out! Search the woods. I think we’ve patrolled far enough, so we will begin our trek back home in the morning.”

The other Zora saluted by placing fists to their chests before spreading out and walking into the trees on either side of the road. As he passed, the Zora named Bazz placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly before continuing on into the trees.

Once the other Zora were gone, the taller Zora finally released Link’s hand, still grinning. He glanced around briefly before lowering his head and speaking in a softer tone. “Better?” Link looked up at him in confusion, but the Zora seemed to get the answer he was looking for because he stood tall again.

“Link, is it?”

Link nodded. The Zora had a unique look about him. Two ridges extended to the sides like small, rigid wings from his snout just above his eyes, and the tail fin on the back of his head ran all the way down to the middle of his back. Unlike the other Zora that Link had seen, he also had an additional dorsal fin extended up from the top of his head, as well as a piece of silvery ornamentation that Link thought might be the Zora version of a crown.

“Excellent! I am Sidon. Prince of Zora’s Domain. And you are exactly who I’ve been looking for.”

“You knew I was coming?” Link said, frowning.

“Oh no!” Sidon seemed to always be smiling, his voice cheerful. “But we Zora have been in a bit of a spot lately—”

“The Divine Beast?”

Sidon laughed heartily. “So, you’ve heard! Yes, Ruta has been quite angry lately. She is the one causing all of this rain, and I am worried that, if we do not put a stop to it soon, the east reservoir will overflow, flooding both Zora’s Domain and a good portion of Hyrule at that.”

A chill ran down Link’s back. Flood Zora’s Domain? Flood Hyrule? “That’s why I’m here, actually. I’ve been sent on a… mission. To regain control of the Divine Beasts.”

“Excellent!” His outburst startled Link, but the Zora Prince didn’t seem to notice. He clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “Really, that is wonderful. I am certain that my father will be thrilled to hear of it. And maybe now the old Demon Sergeant can stop electrocuting himself with shock arrows.”

“Prince Sidon, I—”

“Oh, you can just call me Sidon. Everyone does.”

“All right. Sidon, if you could tell me how to get to the Divine Beast, I will begin that way and—”

“Oh no! It’s much too late for that, man. We will make camp tonight and begin back to the Domain in the morning. My father will like to speak to you. He always spoke very highly of you, and well…” Sidon’s composure faltered, but only for a moment. “I am sure that he would like to speak with you about my sister.”

“Your… sister?”

“Mipha.”

It felt as if a cold hand wrapped around Link’s heart and squeezed. Prince Sidon. Princess Mipha. The Zora king. Impa must have known, hadn’t she? She would have known what Link was walking into. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t anyone thought to prepare him for this?

Absently, he nodded, which Sidon readily accepted with another exclamation of, “Wonderful!”

Link felt anything but wonderful at that moment.

It rained all night—something that didn’t seem to bother the Zora at all. They all slept easily on the ground while Link huddled under the tree with the thickest canopy that he could find. His attempt at a lean-to did not provide much, if any, relief from the rain, and there was no hope to crafting a fire either. The Zora caught fish from the river, eating them raw. They offered some of the river’s bounty to Link, but he shook his head, choosing to eat his leftover travel rations.

Thankfully, no more lizalfos attacked that night. Several of the Zora had been wounded in the fight, but none were serious, though Rivan still appeared dazed from the shock he received. Zora, it appeared, were very susceptible to electrocution—confirmed to him by Sidon, who asked with some amazement at the way Link was able to use the lizalfos’ shock arrows against them.

Many of the Zora that followed Sidon had, apparently, known Link before the Calamity. In fact, to his surprise, Bazz told him that he was actually the individual that taught several of the Zora how to fight with both sword and spear. Sidon had grown excited by that, telling Link that his personal guard were among some of the best warriors that Zora’s Domain had to offer.

Reluctantly, Link told the group of Zora his story. He and these Zora had, once, been friends, and he felt that he owed them the truth. They listened with rapt attention, and once he was finished, each of them declared with no uncertainty that his lack of memories didn’t matter to them. They were just happy that their friend still lived.

Link hadn’t been sure how to respond to that and remained silent.

The morning brought a grey dawn and more rain, and he felt eager to get back on the road. After much discussion amongst themselves, Sidon sent several Zora swimming upriver back to their city to inform the king of what happened and of Link’s arrival. Sidon and the remaining three Zora—Bazz, Gaddison, and Rivan—decided, instead, to walk with him. He had initially resisted riding while they walked, but it became clear to him that they did not have nearly the same amount of trouble he had moving through the mud. Even though they were taller than Link, their webbed feet seemed to enable them to walk on top of the mud, rather than sinking into it, and the footprints they left were shallow.

That day passed more pleasantly than Link had expected. The group of Zora that walked with him were clearly old friends, including Sidon, who laughed and joked as much as the rest of them. They told Link some stories from one hundred years past, too.

Link had, apparently, been just a boy when he first came to Zora’s Domain with his father, the knight. Bazz, Gaddison, and Rivan had just been children at the time and had eagerly played with the boy Link. As years passed, Link grew older, but Zora aged much more slowly than Hylians. Gaddison admitted that she looked to Link like an older brother, which made the other two Zora laugh for some reason.

It was because of this apparent maturity gap that Link had taught these three Zora how to fight. They had been considered much too young to learn the ways of combat, but Link had known much, even as a child, and had gladly shared his knowledge with the children as he got older.

“Of course, then you visited with the Princess and didn’t really have as much time for us,” Rivan said off-handedly.

“He made time for Mipha, though!”

“Well, of course.”

Link didn’t respond to this exchange, but Sidon looked thoughtful. He admitted that he didn’t have any real memories of Link from before—he was younger than the rest of the Zora by at least twenty years, and any memories he had from before the Calamity were hazy at best. Link wondered if that meant that he didn’t have any memories of Mipha as well. That seemed tragic to him.

It wasn’t until later that they encountered more lizalfos. These ones were not as well-organized as the previous group and had no shock arrows, thankfully. Still, though, Link was grateful that he linked up with the group of Zora. He wasn’t sure that he would have been able to make it up the river without them. Lizalfos fought far more viciously than bokoblins, like instinct-driven beasts without fear of death.

After the fight, Link asked about the lizalfos’ presence in Zora’s Domain.

“Zora and lizalfos have been sworn enemies, going back countless generations,” Sidon said in response as he wiped his spear clean of green blood after dipping it into a small pond a little off of the road. “Legends say that, long ago, before Hylians or Gorons ever walked the land, Zora and lizalfos were at peace with each other. However, in that time, the land was a hot, arid place, with little water. The Zora people lived in the water, while the lizalfos occupied the burning lands. Over time, the lizalfos began to covet the cooling waters of Zora’s River, and demanded that the Zora give them half of the waters.

“The Zora, at that time, agreed to share the distributaries off of the main river, but were unwilling to give up the river itself, where their children played and the best fish were to be had. The lizalfos did not accept this, however, and decided to attack the Zora, determined to drive them out of the river entirely.

“The two tribes clashed many times, but the lizalfos were never able to achieve their ultimate goals and drive the Zora from the waters. Eventually, while the Zora grew older and wiser, the lizalfo tribe split due to infighting. Some traveled west to the desert, hoping to find another source of water on its other side, while others migrated to the mountains, hoping for relief from the burning heat of the land on the snowcaps.

“Some, however, would forever remain near Zora’s Domain, remembering the time, ages past, when Zora and lizalfos fought over the great river. Though the land is no longer arid, and many of the streams have now become rivers in their own right, these lizalfos still seek to drive Zora from the land and claim the river’s source for their own.”

There were a few moments of silence after Sidon’s tale ended before the prince grinned toothily. “Or so the stories say. Personally, I think that they are merely a bunch of stupid lizards with a desire to meet the end of my spear.”

The other Zora laughed and cheered their prince, and Link smiled faintly. Sidon waited for a few moments for his guards to move away back towards the road, preparing to continue their journey north. Once they were out of earshot, he looked at Link, his expression grim.

“The truth is that the lizalfos are growing stronger,” he said. Link looked at him with a frown. “They used to be little more than animals and were easy to deal with, but lately, they have been gathering together in larger bands. Twenty years ago, they would have never created an ambush like the one we found ourselves in yesterday. They’ve grown smarter, and their tactics are changing.”

“How bad is it?” Link said, moving a half-step closer.

“It’s hard to say, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a large group as the one we just fought this far up the river. I will have to report it to my father and arrange for more patrols. Vah Ruta’s rain has only seemed to embolden them.”

Sidon, with a grim smile, placed a hand on Link’s shoulder before moving off to join the other Zora. Troubled, Link walked back to Spirit, gripping the sodden saddle carefully and pulling himself up. Spirit snorted, clearly as unhappy with the rain as he was, and he patted the horse’s neck soothingly.

“Almost there, boy.”

The late afternoon brought with it the first sight of the Great Zora Bridge. The day’s travel had taken them across several bridges, each a beautiful work of stonemasonry, but nothing compared to the final bridge spanning the last leg of the river to its above-ground source. As they rounded a mountain called Ruto Mountain, Link was surprised to see just how high above the river they were now. A rock bridge crossed from the mountain across the river far below to a rocky island pillar in the middle of Zora River.

It was from this pillar that the Great Zora Bridge began. The bridge, itself, was at least a mile long, if not longer—a marvel of engineering in its own right before one considered the fact that it had no apparent supports. Instead, it was built into the side of the pillar and extended all the way up the rest of Zora River, over a massive waterfall, to connect with the large city of Zora’s Domain. The city was far enough away that the rain obscured it, leaving Link with only a few faint impressions of its design and size.

The bridge was made of beautiful white and gray stone, just as the watchtowers had been, with stone arches placed equidistant from each other along its length. Each pillar was beautifully carved stone with a glowing white gem placed at its peak, providing light to those traveling by night. The sight of the bridge alone was breathtaking but walking upon it was even more awe-inspiring—and bordering on terrifying.

He dismounted Spirit when they reached the bridge, taking the horse’s reins and guiding him onto the bridge. He wasn’t at all sure that he would want to ride across this bridge, if he could help it. The river was incredibly far below them—Link wasn’t even sure his grip on the paraglider could hold out long enough for him to reach the bottom if he fell off. Any fear that he felt, however, was quickly overshadowed by the simple amazement that he felt as they walked across the stone.

“Ah, to be able to see it for the first time,” Sidon said, smiling. “Or, at least, the first time you can remember, hmm?”

Link glanced towards him, and for the first time in a while, the mention of his lack of memories didn’t really bother him. Sidon was right. This was a spectacle that he was glad that he couldn’t remember seeing before.

“Just wait,” said Bazz, nodding towards the distant, shadowy shape of their city. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

They walked along the bridge, rain pouring steadily down upon them, for the next ten minutes before Zora’s Domain began to take shape. As they got closer, Link began to see hints of platforms and walkways, stone pillars, and something massive rising up from its center. The closer he got, the more of the city came into view, and the less he even noticed the rain pouring down on him.

Even under the shadow of rain clouds, the city was beautiful. It was built in several ring-shaped tiers, with various stone walkways that circled around the rings in a complex system of walkways and platforms. Still far ahead, the bridge terminated on the lowest tier, which opened into a wide plaza, at the center of which was what appeared to be a large fountain that he could only just barely make out. This bottom tier was the largest, extending far beyond the plaza and forming the city’s foundation. It was on this tier that the winding walkways that encircled the city and connected to various platforms and the upper tiers began.

A pair of half-circle staircases rose from either side of the plaza, rising up to the second tier of Zora’s Domain. Here, from what Link could see, was a hub for many of the city’s walkways to converge. Bridges connected to the distant walls of the basin that Zora’s Domain was situated in, like the spokes of a great wheel. In the far distance, Link could make out even more structures built along the bridges and along the walls.

The city’s uppermost level was taken up by the magnificent shining palace. This was a building that Link had seen before, in the photo gallery on his Sheikah Slate, but a photograph had done nothing to show the true majesty of what he saw now. It was designed like an enormous fish, its tail flipped up and curling over its head. Hundreds, if not thousands, of silvery scales had been carved into the fish’s body. Its tailfin glowed brightly in the same blue-white way that many other Zora structures had, shining its hazy light down on the palace from above. The fish’s mouth made the entrance to the palace, open for all to see, though the rain made it hard for Link to actually see what lay within.

The entire city was suspended above a large pool of water below—the source of the river—by large, white pillars of stone. The pillars seemed far too thin for how large the city was, but he knew from what he’d been told that it had held for thousands of years without fail. It was surrounded on all sides by massive cliffs of stone and shimmering crystal that reflected the grey clouds overhead.

The city was beautiful. And Link had, most certainly, seen it before. Not just in a photograph, nor in a memory. But somewhere, deep in the recesses of Link’s mind, he knew that he’d been here before. He’d seen that palace before. He’d walked upon the walkways. He’d played…

“Come on, Bazz! You’ll need to be faster if you want to beat me!”

A flash through his mind. Sprinting along a walkway that overlooked a great lake. One misstep and he would fall over the edge, but when did a child think of such things?

“Slow down, Link! If you’re not careful, you’ll—Link!”

A slip of his foot, a lurch, sudden, open air… And a hand that gripped his arm with a firm, secure grip.

“You must be careful, little one. A Hylian such as you would have trouble with that dive…”

Golden eyes. Red fins that draped to either side of a round face. Golden jewelry that hung down the sides of the fins. A warm smile.

“Thank you, Lady Mipha! I tried warning him.”

Zora’s Domain. Bazz. Mipha. All flashed through Link’s head in a whirl of sounds and colors. It was enough to make him stumble, placing a hand against Spirit’s thick neck for support. Ahead, the contingent of Zora paused, though none looked back at him.

“Why, here comes Muzu! Perhaps the old manta was worried about me?”

He could remember being at Zora’s Domain before. He had been young—merely a child. And Bazz had been one too. They’d been running on the walkways that extended out from the sides of Zora’s Domain—a dangerous place for a Hylian, such as him, to be playing. He’d stubbed his toe on a stair, stumbled, nearly fallen off, and then…

“Prince Sidon!”

Mipha. He could remember her face. Not from a photograph, but a true memory. He could remember her voice. It was only one brief memory of her—the smallest of glimpses of her warm face—but he hung onto that memory. It was more than anything he’d gotten so far, even if this memory had also been disjointed and confused like the one before.

“What is it, Muzu? Why do you look so alarmed? Has something happened?”

He wanted to remember more of her. He’d been a child in this memory, but what of when he was older? What of their travels as Champions? He thought of the photograph of the four Champions, Princess Zelda, and him, all gathered together. Had they been close? Had they been friends?

“Prince, I implore you. We must eject this Hylian from our Domain at once! He is not welcome here!”

Link’s thoughts crashed around him as he focused, again, on the scene before him. Sidon, Bazz, Rivan, and Gaddison all stood in front of him, facing another group of Zoras. The center Zora, with a wide, flat head with eyes far to either side, stared at Link with what looked like barely contained rage. To either side of him were another pair of much older Zora, each carrying a spear. They, too, looked at Link with hatred and gripped their spears in tight fists.

“Muzu, what has gotten into you?” Sidon said. “Do you know who this is?”

“Oh, I know full well who he is, Prince Sidon. This man—” the one named Muzu spat, pointing a tremulous finger at Link. “—is the one responsible for your sister’s death.”

The beautiful, smiling image of Mipha that Link could still see in his mind shattered.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

“Doesn’t that look like…”

“Lady Mipha…”

“Responsible.”

Whispers.

That is what Link heard as the contingent of Zora led him into the city. Whispers from the Zora around him—from Bazz and his friends, from the older Zora with Muzu, from various other Zora adults that saw the group. That saw him. He was, it seemed, well known in Zora’s Domain.

 “Linny…?”

“Stole her away…”

“Mipha’s killer.”

Just whispers.

Though the hour was already getting late, the Zora led him up the stairs towards the palace. It would seem that, if Link really was entering the city, then the king wished to see him. He dreaded the meeting with the man whose daughter died because of him.

The worst part, he supposed, was that he did not fully understand the crime he was being blamed for. He assumed that it was his failure in defeating Ganon, which he could certainly understand. But there seemed to be something else to their accusations—something more direct. He wished that he had something more than a single memory from his childhood to fall back on.

The climb to the palace revealed more of the city’s beauty, but also some of the things that set it apart from normal Hylian settlements. For one, Link could not actually see any residences. Though he spotted several shops on the bottom level, including what looked like an inn, complete with a small stable, he spotted nothing that looked like a home.

Another oddity about Zora’s Domain was the eternal presence of water. At first, Link had assumed that it was just because of the rain, but it soon became apparent to him that the city was just built in such a way that water pooled on the ground in most places. Water even streamed down the stairs leading up to the second tier and the palace. Link’s boots had somehow become even more waterlogged than they had been already.

He found the answer to his first observation as he crested the stairs leading to the second tier of Zora’s Domain. He spotted a group of Zora children being led to some kind of communal pool just underneath the palace, where they were encouraged to lie down in the waters. He could see the forms of several other children that had already fallen asleep in the pools.

Gaddison must have seen his curious glance, because she explained a moment later. “Most Zora live in the waters below the city and in the river itself. However, the current can be difficult for the young ones to navigate, especially while sleeping. So the resting pools were created for the children to sleep in.”

“What about the parents?” Link said, glancing back at her.

“What about them? Most of them sleep below.”

“Away from their children?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling. “There isn’t nearly enough room in the pools for the adults, after all. And adults don’t have difficulties with the currents the way the children do. Many of the Zora from downriver have temporarily relocated to below the city because of the increased current, though. It’s calmer here, even with the waterfall. And few make their homes outside of Zora’s Domain anymore.”

As they began up the stairs to the palace, Sidon pressed forward, taking the stairs three at a time. A glance at Muzu’s face told Link that he disapproved of the prince’s haste—at least, Link assumed that’s what his expression meant—but he continued up at his same plodding pace.

Once they reached the mouth of the palace, the other Zora—Sidon’s guards and those that had accompanied Muzu—split off. Several of them were sent off to do other work, leaving only Bazz and one of the elder Zora that had followed Muzu to stand guard at the entrance. Bazz looked at Link and smiled, nodding his encouragement.

Finally, Link entered the palace a few steps behind Muzu. As he did, he looked around in awe. Indeed, the palace was very large, but it was also surprisingly open. Rather than the multiple rooms or chambers that Link had expected, the inside of the palace was a large open dome. Several deep pools were set into the floor, forming a semi-circle around the outside of the room. The walls around the palace had several large openings overlooking the city and surrounding landscape, and two waterfalls on either side of the room flowed down to the lake far below. In the center of the room was a massive throne-like construction, made of the same white stone as the rest of Zora’s Domain, shaped into a large bowl with a shallow side facing forward. He saw water pouring over the edges of the throne.

Link in took the palace in a glance, but his eyes were mostly drawn to the being sitting upon the throne. King Dorephan, whom Sidon had told Link about, was far larger than any of the other Zora that Link had seen.

If the other Zora were fish, then King Dorephan was a whale. He sat upon the throne, and still, his head lifted high above Link and even Sidon’s head, who stood to the right hand of the throne. His skin was textured navy blue with a white chest, like most of the other Zora Link had seen. Also, like the other Zora, he had thick fins extending from either side of his head—four of them—and a snout placed just above his eyes, that seemed to droop down to the middle of his face. He was also far broader than the other Zora but didn’t appear overweight. Instead, he seemed to be made of muscle—his arms, chest, and shoulders were all massive. His arms, alone, looked to be thicker than Link’s body was. The king had several scars along those arms, as well as on his chest and head. He had once been a warrior, if he wasn’t still.

The king leaned his head down, listening intently as Muzu muttered urgently in a way that Link couldn’t quite catch. The king did not seem to agree with Muzu, however, as he shook his head before fixing his eyes upon Link. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sidon motion for the raised platform before the throne, which, blessedly, rose out of the ankle-deep layer of water coating the floor in this chamber. Hesitantly, he climbed the steps, standing upon the platform.

“So you’ve returned, at last,” King Dorephan said in a loud, sonorous voice. “Link, Champion of Hyrule.”

He stared back mutely at the king. What did he say when speaking to royalty whose daughter whose death he was, apparently, responsible for?

A smile split Dorephan’s lips, revealing sharp teeth, and he leaned down some so he could speak in more conversational tones. “It’s good to see you. I had heard—we all heard—that you had fallen in combat during the Calamity. I am happy to see that you survived, my friend, though I do wonder at how you survived and where you have been these last one hundred years…”

Link swallowed and licked his lips. “I have been…” He cleared his throat, trying to project a stronger voice. “I did fall during the Calamity. I was placed in an ancient Sheikah chamber that restored me, but—”

“You are telling me that the Sheikah have technology such as this, yet have not shared it?” Muzu said. “Why, with this, we could have saved—”

“Peace, Muzu,” King Dorephan said, holding up a hand. “Continue, Link.”

“It… restored me to health, but slowly. I’ve been asleep for the last one hundred years, your majesty. And it… took my memories. I can’t remember anything from before I woke.”

Dorephan’s friendly face grew sorrowful. “I am truly sorry to hear that, as I have many fond memories of your time spent here. Is there no hope at recovering your lost memories?”

“I…” He hesitated, thinking back to the flash of memory he’d received on his way into the city. “I believe that some will return. Already, I started remembering… pieces. But I don’t know.”

Dorephan nodded, his smile returning. “Well, you spent a great deal of time here, so perhaps being here will reawaken some of them.”

“I hope so, your majesty.”

“And what of my daughter, Mipha?” The king’s tone grew hesitant. “Have you lost all memories of her, as well?”

Link grimaced at the question, and he took a moment to answer, wondering if he should disclose the brief memory he’d received when entering the city. Finally, he decided that truth would serve him best.

“I have, but entering the city brought back… something. A fragment. I hope that more might return in time. I understand that she was a true friend.”

“A truer friend, I doubt you’ve ever had, and more.” The king’s voice grew somber. “You and Mipha were very close, Link. I do hope that being here helps you recover some of that.”

“Father,” Sidon said from the side of the throne. “Perhaps we can speak more of my sister at a later time. I do believe that Link came here with another goal in mind.”

“Oh, yes,” Dorephan said, nodding and looking at his son. “Yes, of course! We do have more important matters at hand than reminiscing about better times.” The king focused again on Link, leaning forward. “Prince Sidon tells me that you came here because of our troubles with Vah Ruta.”

“Yes, your majesty, but there is more.” Link took a breath and exhaled slowly. Here we go. “I intend to recapture all four Divine Beasts so that they can be used to defeat Calamity Ganon.”

Silence fell. The king gazed at Link, his expression grim. Link met his eyes, hoping to project the confidence that he didn’t feel. Hope. That’s what Impa said he was. Could he be hope?

“My friend, I am sorry for the road you must travel,” the king finally said. His large eyes held no rekindled hope. “But I am grateful for your assistance, nonetheless.”

Muzu shifted and began to speak urgency, and a great deal of vehemence. “Your majesty, surely we can find another way to appease the Divine Beast than by relying on the assistance of the Hylian. The last time we entangled ourselves in this… mission, we lost—”

“I am well aware of the cost.” King Dorephan spoke with an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before, but he did not meet his advisor’s eyes. “But this is a greater than the Zora. We have all lost loved ones to the Calamity.”

Muzu pursed his lips, clearly wanting to speak more, but the reprimand from the king’s voice was clear. Finally, he nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. His smoldering eyes fell again on Link.

“Now,” the king began, turning his focus towards Sidon. “Sidon, the plan that you spoke of last week. At the time, it seemed impossible, but perhaps now…”

“Father, I hardly think—that is really more of Zora business, is it not? I don’t believe that we should involve Link in anything beyond what he came here to do.”

Link looked back and forth between the two Zora as they spoke, frowning. He had no idea what it was that they were speaking of.

King Dorephan chuckled softly. “Sidon, who do you think it was that defeated the last one that decided to claim Ploymus Mountain for his own?”

“Your majesty?” Link said, drawing attention the two Zora’s attention back to him. “If you have a plan for subduing the Divine Best, I would like to hear it. Whatever I can do to help…”

Dorephan smiled warmly at this before glancing back down at Sidon. The younger Zora sighed softly in acceptance and stepped closer to Link. He was tall enough that Link, even standing on the raised dais, was only eye-level with him.

“Yes, I suppose your help would be appreciated due to the nature of the task,” he said. “You see, we have made several attempts already to calm Ruta, but nothing has been effective with the exception of one thing—shock arrows.”

“Like the ones that the lizalfos were using?”

“Yes, exactly,” Sidon said. “We were able to recently discover that a shock arrow, shot with precision at key points on Ruta’s body, is able to cause her to shut down temporarily. However, as you might have seen during our encounter with the lizalfos, Zora are particularly sensitive to electric shock. We cannot safely use shock arrows ourselves.”

Link thought of the electric shock he had received while using the arrow. It had certainly felt uncomfortable, and even hurt, to use the arrow, but it hadn’t so bad that he was unable to use it. But if Zora were more susceptible to electric shock…

“That hasn’t stopped us from trying, of course, and one of our number was able to successfully use one arrow, though when he tried to use a second arrow, it nearly killed him.”

“So you need me to use shock arrows to weaken the Divine Beast?”

“Well, yes, but it isn’t that simple.”

Of course, it wasn’t.

Sidon continued. “You see, we Zora do not typically use shock arrows. They are made in the west, using materials found in the Gerudo Highlands, I believe. Due to our weakness to the arrows, we do not have any here.”

“Then where did you find the one that you used in the first place? What about the lizalfos?”

The Zora sighed softly, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. We found the one we used against the Divine Beast. And the lizalfos—who knows where they got theirs. I know that we searched any lizalfo camps that we’ve come across, but the ones used yesterday were the first that we’d seen in a long time.”

“Is it possible to buy them off a merchant?”

“Perhaps, but that would require time that I’m afraid we do not have. The East Lake Reservoir, where Ruta makes her home, is already far fuller than is safe. If that dam breaks, then the result would be catastrophic.”

Link waited for Sidon to continue, beginning to feel impatient with his hesitance to get to the point. Finally, the Zora did go on.

“So that leaves us with, really, only one viable option. The lynel on Ploymus Mountain.”

“Lynel?”

“A fearsome beast that has taken up residence on top of the mountain. It isn’t the first time one of their kind has done so. Father is right—the last time one did so, you defeated it at Mipha’s bequest.”

“I don’t really understand,” Link said, frowning. “How does defeating the lynel help with the Divine Beast?”

“It has shock arrows.”

Oh.

“We have, of course, tried to kill or, at least, drive the lynel away, but it is a crafty, deadly foe. Several of our greatest warriors have tried, and not all of them survived to escape.” Sidon shook his head, opening his mouth to say more, but then stopped, glancing at his father. Link had the sense that there was more to this story that Sidon hadn’t told.

“Link, I know that this is much to ask of you,” King Dorephan said gravely, leaning forward again. “But we believe that the only way to get past Ruta’s defenses will be through the use of shock arrows. The single arrow that Seggin used was very effective, but it was not permanent. Our scholars believe that, with several more, it might do enough damage to fully shut it down or, at least, revert it back to its previous, dormant state.”

Link’s gaze flicked between Sidon and Dorephan, taking in each of their expressions, frustrated and imploring, respectively. Finally, he sighed.

“I will do it, your majesty.”

Not long after agreeing to attempt to defeat the lynel, Sidon led Link back out of the palace. He seemed frustrated and waved off Bazz when he attempted to follow, assuring him that he was just going to show Link to the inn. Bazz reluctantly agreed to let them go off alone.

They walked in silence for a time before the tall Zora spoke. “You know, while you’re here, I hear that we’re in need of some more luminous stone for new construction projects. Could you take care of that for us as well?” He looked up at Sidon in confusion, and Sidon met his eyes, breaking into a grin. “I’m sorry, I jest, of course. I just… do not agree with making you solve all of our problems. The lynel is our concern, and not even the most pressing one.”

“I thought that you said there was no other way to get shock arrows.”

“There isn’t, that I know of. Not in time.” Sidon exhaled slowly, shaking his head and pursing his lips. “But it shouldn’t be you. Not alone, at least. However, my father has forbidden me from challenging the lynel. He is willing to allow other Zora to face it and die, but he will not risk my life.”

Uncertain of what he should say in response to that, Link remained quiet. Sidon glanced at Link and smiled, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to involve you in my problems,” he said, and they both continued down the stairs.

The stairs led onto a wide town square, with the fountain that Link had seen from afar in its center. Now that he was closer to it—and paying attention—he could see that it was more than a simple fountain. It was a statue made in the likeness of a female Zora, holding a trident, point down, with stone carving made to look like splashing water on either side of the trident’s point. Water flowed out around the base of the fountain, splashing to join the water that covered the ground.

Link’s brows furrowed as he saw the statue, taking note of the slender, feminine body that the Zora possessed, the relaxed way she held the spear, the kindly expression that had been painstakingly carved into its face… He gasped.

“Is that…?” He hurried across the square to stand in front of the statue.

Sidon followed him, stepping up beside him and gazing up at the statue’s face. “My sister, Mipha. The Champion.”

Mipha. Link could recognize her face now that he was up close. Vague though his only memory of her was, he could see that the sculptor had worked exceedingly hard to capture every detail of her face. Absently, Link reached down to his belt and removed his Sheikah Slate. He tapped the screen until he reached a photograph of the Zora woman, standing tall and looking slightly embarrassed. She stood in front of a large mechanical creature in the shape of an elephant, with a long truck, thick body, and four legs. The Divine Beast Vah Ruta.

He compared the photograph with the statue, marveling at the craftsmanship that went into creating the likeness. It was remarkable and a testament to just how much the Zora had revered her.

He heard a gasp beside him and, suddenly, Sidon’s face was level with Link’s. He was looking at the Sheikah Slate with wide eyes, mouth open.

“That is… amazing,” he said, slightly breathless. “I haven’t…”

Link glanced at Sidon and looked away again quickly when he saw the emotion in the Zora’s face. He focused his eyes upon the Sheikah Slate as well. Something about it seemed to call to him. Something…

“I have not seen my sister like that in one hundred years,” Sidon said, voice heavy with emotion. “In truth, I do not even remember her very well anymore—I had not even reached my twentieth year when she was taken, after all.

“I remember only specific memories, for the most part. I remember, for example, when she carried me up the Veiled Falls. Your princess was there, I recall.”

Link focused his attention back on Sidon, frowning.

“I remember that Mipha… She told me that I would need to protect our home and that she…” Sidon trailed off for several seconds. Finally, he spoke again, voice hardening with resolve. “I will go with you, when you go to face the lynel.”

Link stared at the Zora, considering the possible consequences of this action. He had the sense that the king would likely refuse to let Sidon go. In any case, he certainly did not want to be responsible for the death of another of King Dorephan’s children. However, he also recognized it meant too much to Sidon for him to refuse this request. He nodded.

Sidon grinned toothily and stood up taller. “Yes, we shall slay the beast together, just as you once did with my sister one hundred years ago. And then, together, we shall tame the Divine Beast and save the land. It will be glorious!”

Link wished he could feel so confident. With a sinking feeling, he was aware that he had just agreed to place another royal child into mortal danger. He had no way of knowing what they would be facing in the Divine Beast. Could they even tame it? If Mipha had been unable to do so…

“Come!” Sidon said, slapping Link on the back and turning. He began walking towards the inn. “If we are to slay a lynel tomorrow, then we must get some rest.”

Link glanced back down at the Sheikah Slate and Mipha’s smiling face, before replacing it on his belt and following after Sidon.

The inn, Link found, was pleasant, but very different than the other inns he’d been in. It, like many of the other Zora businesses, had only half-walls, leaving the inside fully exposed to the night air. As a result, the air in the inn was cool and moist, though a few warming braziers helped to keep it comfortable.

It had a single, round room with several beds in a semi-circle around it, including what appeared to be a bed with a mattress full of water. He found Kass sleeping on that bed, much to his dismay. He had hoped that the Rito would have already moved on by now, but there was no helping it. Kass would almost certainly hear of Link’s coming to Zora’s Domain and his plan to tame the Divine Beast. He would face that when he had to. Perhaps he could convince the minstrel to keep things quiet.

They also met a female Zora named Kodah who grinned brightly at Link, exclaiming, “Linny, it is you!”

Sidon, giving Link a sympathetic smile, bade him farewell, leaving Link to explain to a very excited Kodah what he had been doing for the last one hundred years.

The morning brought with it a messenger in the form of a Zora child, who informed Link that he was needed back at the palace right away. Worrying that something even worse had happened, Link quickly dressed and went with the boy, climbing the stairs to the palace.

Once he arrived, he was unsurprised to find Kass in the presence of King Dorephan, Sidon, and Muzu. He had noticed that Kass had already been gone when he rose, and he’d known by the bard’s demeanor and goals that he would likely have sought out information about Mipha from her own family—even if that family was royalty.

Kass gave him that knowing Rito smile, and he sighed, giving him a small nod. So much for any hope to keep this quiet. Link turned his attention to Sidon, who smiled broadly and motioned towards the king. Link stepped onto the raised dais, looking up at the towering figure of King Dorephan.

“Link, my friend, I trust you slept well?”

“I did, your majesty,” Link said.

“Excellent! Well, I am sure you wish to begin your task soon, but I spoke with Sidon last night, and he and I are in agreement that it would not be right for us to ask you to do this without at least outfitting you in the best that Zora’s Domain has to offer.”

“I hope you do not mind, but I got a good look at your sword the other day,” Sidon said, stepping forward, holding a beautiful scabbard lined with silver and ornamented with a blue sapphire in its center. The base of the scabbard was wider than the tip. A sword’s hilt extended out from the sheath. “It looked a little worn.” He held the scabbard out to Link, who took it without reply.

He pulled the sword from the scabbard, eyes widening at its silvery gleam. The hilt was elaborate, with a dual cross-guard shaped like a pair of wings beneath another pair of curved hooks. A sapphire ornamented the center of the cross-guard. The blade made Link think of a knight’s lance, flared wide near its base and narrow in the center. Its tip, however, grew wider again like the head of a spear. It was uniquely Zora in appearance and shockingly light, as well.

It was a thing of beauty, but if he were being honest with himself, he thought he preferred the more traditional look for a sword. This blade was certainly of higher quality than the sword he had been using, though he did hope that its lightness was not a sign of its durability. It wouldn’t do for the sword to break in the middle of a fight.

He sheathed the sword and bowed low in the manner of the Sheikah—the only way to show gratitude that he was really familiar with. He wondered what the proper way in the courts of Hyrule would have been. “Thank you, your majesty. This is… a wonderful gift.”

He heard Kass chuckle quietly and shot him a glance, frowning. The Rito looked slightly abashed, straightening.

“Good, good!” Dorephan said, nodding with satisfaction. “The sword fits the man, indeed. I hope that this will assist you on your endeavors today.” He looked towards Sidon. “Now, I believe my son has agreed to lead you to the base of Ploymus Mountain.”

Link glanced at Sidon, confused, but the Zora grinned broadly. “Yes, it wouldn’t do to just send you off in a direction and expect you to find your way, now would it?” He met Link’s eyes and gave him a wink. That feeling of dread that Link had felt the day before only intensified.

They met up at the bridge leading east out of the city. Link had gone back down to the inn to collect a few additional pieces of gear—his shield, bow and arrows (though he hated using them in the rain), a bag with a day’s worth of rations, and his cloak. After a few moment of consideration, he also grabbed his paraglider, thinking that having it at the top of a mountain might not be a terrible idea indeed, if he needed to make a quick getaway for whatever reason. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

When he found Sidon at the bridge, the prince smiled broadly. He held his spear nonchalantly, haft pressed against the ground, and raised a hand in greeting. Link noticed that he also had a very similar sword strapped to his waist as well. “It’s a wonderful day, don’t you think?”

Link, wearing the rain-drenched cloak and already feeling cold, did not particularly think it was a very good day at all, actually. Sidon didn’t seem to mind his grimace, however, and turned, beginning to walk across the bridge. Link hurried to follow, having to nearly jog to keep up with Sidon’s long strides.

“You didn’t tell your father that you were coming with me?” Link said, once they were a good distance along the bridge. Sidon looked down at him in surprise.

“Of course not! I told you—he has expressly forbidden me from doing anything of the sort.”

“But if something happens…”

“Nothing will happen. After all, I have the Hylian Champion alongside me, do I not?”

Link stopped, pursing his lips. “Sidon.”

Sidon paused, looking back at Link, and his smile faded.

“I don’t know what kind of… tales have been told about me,” Link said, exhaling slowly. “Honestly, they might even all be true. I don’t know. But I also have no idea what we’re walking into here. I don’t have a clue what a lynel is or how to defeat one. I am doing this because I must, not because I’m seeking adventure.”

Sidon’s smile disappeared completely, replaced with an expression of mild disgust. “You think I’m doing this for adventure?”

“That’s not—”

“I have lost friends to this creature,” Sidon said, his tone firm. “It has terrorized us for months now, and many Zora have tried, unsuccessfully, to defeat it.”

“Why haven’t you sent a group of Zora to—”

“You think we haven’t?” Sidon looked at him incredulously. “Link, we’ve sent entire squads to try to kill it. But lynels are crafty. That’s why it uses electric arrows—if a Zora is hit with one of those arrows, mark my words, it will kill. Rivan was almost killed the other day, and he wasn’t even hit by the arrow.”

“Then, perhaps, I should go alone.”

“No.” Sidon swept a hand through the air in a cutting gesture. “This is something that I must do.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He looked at Link for several moments before looking back towards the city. “I have to protect my home.”

Link wanted to argue further, but the look in the prince’s eyes quelled any further discussion. Finally, he nodded. “Just… be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Sidon said, turning and continuing on towards the distant mountain. Somehow, Link doubted that.

They finally reached the opposite side of the bridge and walked onto the grass at the base of the mountain. Ploymus Mountain was a rocky mountain that had a curve to it, resulting in a gentler slope to the north, while the southern slope inverted upon itself and the peak hung over the reservoir where Sidon told Link that Vah Ruta had made its home.

The climb up the mountain would not be overly difficult, but the rain-slick ground would, undoubtedly, make it more treacherous than it would be otherwise. It would have likely taken all day to climb the mountain by himself, but Sidon came prepared.

After they crossed the bridge, he surprised Link by walking over and lifting a large, wrapped bundle from a nearby bush. He placed it on the ground and unwrapped it, revealing several pieces of equipment—a silvery Zora bow and quiver of arrows, a large length of rope, and several climbing pitons.

“You see, for Zora, climbing the mountain is fairly easy. After all, we can swim up the waterfalls. For a Hylian such as yourself, though… Well, I wouldn’t suggest trying to climb the sheer rock walls in this rain.” Sidon looped the rope around his chest, followed by the bow. He hung the quiver of arrows at his waist—Link noticed that the quiver’s design looked like it could be sealed against water—and placed the climbing pitons in it.

“Did you place these out here last night?” Link asked, eyebrows raised.

“Why, yes,” Sidon said, standing up straight again. “It would have looked suspicious if I’d walked out with you with all of this, now wouldn’t it have?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Just… don’t die,” he said. “I’m pretty sure Muzu would drown me if I’m responsible for another royal’s death.”

The words escaped his lips before he could stop them, and he grimaced. He was speaking of Sidon’s sister. His mood must have been terrible indeed, if he thought such black humor was appropriate.

Sidon looked at Link, eyes widening in surprise. A moment later, his lips split into a grin and he laughed out loud. “You know, I hadn’t even thought of that, but you’re right! Muzu and the elders would almost certainly try to have you killed if something were to happen to me”

He hadn’t even thought of it? Link stared at him incredulously, feeling an irrational urge to hit the prince. Maybe shove him off the cliff. There was water below, after all, right? Sidon placed a finger against his lips, tapping them thoughtfully.

“Well,” Sidon finally said. “My father would understand what happened. He knows that I’ve been trying to challenge the lynel for a while now. In fact, I’m a little surprised that he didn’t station a guard out here, just in case I tried to do this… Huh. Well, in either case, I guess I will just have to try very hard not to die.”

“Great,” Link croaked. “You do that.”

A shadow passed over them and both of them looked up in surprise to see a large avian form pass overhead. With a flap of his wings, the figure landed on the grass before them and stood up straight, revealing himself to be Kass. He didn’t carry any musical instruments this day but did have a short bow strapped to his back.

“Kass, what are you doing here?” Link said, feeling exasperated.

The Rito bowed slightly to Sidon before smiling at Link. “I had hoped that you would permit me to accompany you on your quest,” he said, his eyes darting between Link and Sidon, taking in the additional gear that Sidon had acquired. “Though now I wonder if I should be asking Prince Sidon the question, instead…”

Sidon, for his part, did not seem alarmed at Kass’ appearance, but grinned in his typical way. “Looking for inspiration for a new song, bard?”

The wet feathers around Kass’ neck fluttered a little, and he inclined his head towards Sidon. “It is as you say, your majesty. You see, when I met Link on the road, I suspected his identity—I apologize, Link, for not saying something sooner. I could tell that you were… uncomfortable speaking of these things. But now that I know for certain, I cannot pass up the opportunity to see for myself.”

“This is going to be dangerous, Kass,” Link said, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. He liked Kass—really, he did—but this was too much. “Can’t I just… tell you about it when we get back?”

“I assure you that I will stay well out of danger,” Kass said, unperturbed by Link’s resistance. “But I would be remiss not to try and see this with my own eyes.”

“It should be fine, Link,” Sidon said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Link looked up at him and wondered if the prince was merely trying to prevent Kass from going back to Zora’s Domain and telling the king of the deviation from the plan.

Pursing his lips, Link met Sidon’s eyes for a moment before looking at Kass. He sighed. “All right, but Kass, I can’t… answer any questions about the past.”

Kass looked surprised at this, tilting his head slightly. “I already said that I noticed you were uncomfortable discussing such things. I had not intended on pressing the matter.”

“No, it’s not… that. It’s just that I can’t remember the past. I lost my memories.”

“Fascinating,” Kass said, eyes widening. “You must tell me how this happened.” He paused and looked slightly abashed. “After this day, of course. Right now, you must focus on the task at hand.”

Resigned, Link nodded. He had a feeling that any hope he had of going about his business without people knowing his true identity was quickly coming to a close. If he survived this, then his return would probably become much more widely known.

“Wonderful! The more the merrier,” Sidon said, clapping his hands together. “Shall we go?”

The three of them—Hylian, Zora, and Rito—turned and began towards the mountain.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

Link grasped the wet stone with cold fingers, gritting his teeth as he struggled to maintain his grip on the stone. The rain had begun in earnest mid-climb—naturally—and he’d almost slipped several times. Next to him, the waterfall roared, falling a surprisingly far distance down to the ground below. He’d learned long ago not to look down, however, and continued to climb, finding the small handholds that he was able to fit his fingers and feet into. Finally, his hand reached the top of the rock face and a pair of red Zora hands clasped his own, helping him climb to the top.

Once at the top, he sighed softly, nodding towards his companion, and looking up the remaining hill that led to the top of Ploymus Mountain. The lynel that had been terrorizing the Zora would be there, likely waiting for its next challenger. Link wondered how many Zora had already perished because of the terrible beast.

“Link, are you sure about this?” said his companion.

Link turned and looked at the slender Zora, meeting her eyes. He appreciated that Mipha was here—she had certainly helped him climbing up a few of the more difficult sections of rock. Ploymus Mountain was not one that had an easy path that led to its peak, as some of the other hills and mountains in Hyrule had. This was a mountain firmly in Zora territory, with several waterfalls supplied by the underground spring that fed much of the river. Simply put, one did not need a path when you could swim up a waterfall. Link was an excellent climber in his own right, but slick rocks next to waterfalls were never particularly easy, even when it wasn’t raining on top of that.

Still, though, he wished she hadn’t followed him. Didn’t she understand that this was his duty? He had been chosen as the protector of the land. The Hero. The Champion. If not his duty, then whose could it be? Still, his friend followed him.

He gave a small nod in response to her question and then turned, looking towards the much shallower incline that led up to the peak. He began to walk again and heard Mipha fall in behind him. He expected that she would hang back—the lynel was known to have shock arrows, and Mipha didn’t have the resilience that her teacher, Seggin, had. And even he had been unable to defeat the lynel, forced to leap off Shatterback Point into the eastern reservoir to avoid death.

This lynel, it would seem, was a particularly vicious one. This worried Link. While he had never actually spoken with a lynel—they did not speak Hylian, but some claimed that they did have some kind of primitive spoken language—he knew them to be intelligent creatures. They were territorial, to be sure, but also fair. If someone ended up in their territory by accident, they would usually give warning, and only attack if that warning was ignored. Not this lynel, from what Link had been told.

Shatterback Point, the peak of Ploymus Mountain, was preceded by a fairly flat, lush patch of land, situated just beneath the peak. It was a favorite spot among Zora, both for recreation and romantic rendezvous—at least, that’s what some of the Zora had told him. Grass covered the small plateau, and a small grove of trees grew near the peak. There was a path that circled around the mountain up to the northeastern side of the flat expanse, which is the path that Link and Mipha took. As they approached the top, Link crouched, looking through the tall blades of grass for any sign of his quarry. He saw no immediate sign of the lynel and thought that maybe it was hidden among the trees on the opposite end of the plateau.

“So what is our plan? How should I help?” Mipha asked behind him.

What?

Link whirled around, frowning down at her. “It’s not safe for you.”

“It’s not safe for you either, Link.”

“I’ll be fine on my own. You need to turn back, Mipha,” he said, his voice firm.

“I am more than capable of assisting you.”

“I’m not…” Link sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I’m not saying that you aren’t capable. It’s just—this is my du—”

A furious roar silenced both of them and Link whirled, reaching back and unsheathing the legendary sword in one smooth motion.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 

“Link!”

He heard a long, sustained roar. His body grew tense, preparing for a fight. He tried to grip his sword hilt tightly, only to find that it wasn’t in his hand. Why isn’t it…

A waterfall. That was the source of the roar. A waterfall. Not a towering creature made of muscle and terror. And he wasn’t at the peak of Ploymus Mountain—he was near the base. How had he—

Link gasped sharply, stumbling back, eyes widening as he stared at Sidon’s worried expression. That expression was mirrored on Kass’ face, standing directly behind him. Rain poured all around them, causing Link’s hair to hang limply on his head. Some water dripped down into his eyes, and he blinked it away.

“Link, what happened? Are you all right?” Sidon said, taking a step toward him.

“You froze. We were speaking about the mountain, and then you just stopped moving.”

Link looked between them, opening his lips to speak, but found his mouth dry, despite the amount of moisture in the air. How could he describe what he’d just experienced? It was a memory—of that, he was certain. A memory of Sidon’s sister. He tried to wrap his mind around it, to parse through everything that he had witnessed. How long had he been standing there? It was difficult to tell time due to the presence of the dark clouds overhead.

“Link?”

Link finally focused on Sidon and tried to clear his throat, nodding. “I’m… all right,” he said, his voice a croak. He swallowed and tried speaking again. “I just… witnessed something. I saw… your sister.”

“My sister?” Sidon said, alarmed.

“In a memory,” Link continued. “We were going to fight the lynel. She went with me. I tried to tell her to go back, but then it ambushed us while we were arguing. I don’t…”

“Incredible,” Kass said, looking excited. “Of course, that’s not how the story is told in modern times—in fact, some of the recent versions of it that I’ve heard don’t even mention your presence—but one should always expect some embellishment in such heroic tales.”

Sidon stood silently for a long time, eyes on Link. Link met his eyes, unsure of how the tall Zora would react. Finally, though, Sidon’s face broke into a grin, and he reached out, placing a hand on Link’s shoulder.

“That’s wonderful, Link! I should not be surprised that thoughts of Mipha would cause you to remember some things—you both were so close, from what I have been told. Did you remember anything else?”

“No, just… It was so clear. I was there. I remember my thoughts, my feelings…” He thought on how he’d regarded Mipha in the brief memory. She had been his friend. A true friend. His heart suddenly ached for that loss, even though he’d only recovered very little. Already, the vision was fading some, like memories did over time. But they had been friends. Of that, he was certain.

“It makes sense, of course.” Kass stepped up beside Sidon. “We are retreading your steps. I would imagine that you took this very same route to defeat the lynel one hundred years ago, and here you are again. It is amazing how history has a tendency to repeat itself.”

“Yes, it is,” said Sidon, smiling broadly. “I imagine that you will have many songs to write after this day.”

“Oh, I am sure that I may be able to come up with a couple.” Kass said, thoughtful, smiling.

Link finally forced himself to relax. It had been a memory. Not a fragment, not a glimpse of a face or a scent—a true memory, as though he’d been there only moments before. As if Mipha had been alive only moments before. That hurt. He was surprised at how much that thought hurt. He still didn’t know her—not truly. He knew only the thoughts and feelings he’d felt in those few minutes, and those had mostly been directed towards the upcoming fight. But it was something.

“Well, shall we continue?” Sidon said, rousing Link from his contemplation. Link met his eyes and nodded. Sidon grinned and stretched his arms behind his back before approaching the body of water at the base of the waterfall. Mikau Lake, Sidon had called it. He’d been telling them about the mountain when Link’s memory had been triggered. He’d just finished telling him of the mountain’s popularity among young Zora couples.

Sidon slung his bow over his shoulders and leaped into the air before arcing into a perfect dive. He entered the water with barely a splash, but a moment later, he burst out of it and into the rushing waterfall. Amazed, Link watched as he kicked his legs with surprising power and speed, using his arms to steer his way up the heavy current. Sidon rose far faster than Link would have thought possible, leaping up through the waterfall like a salmon swimming up river rapids. When he reached the top of the waterfall, he burst out into the air, spinning in a lazy circle before falling back out of view.

Link glanced over at Kass, who also looked up with fascination. He knew he had to ask and hoped that the question would not, somehow, be offensive.

“Can’t you just fly up?” he said. Kass was, as far as he could tell, waiting for Sidon to throw the rope down as well.

Kass looked at him and smiled. “Yes and no. You see, we Rito are not actually that proficient at difficult flight. We can fly, but prefer there to be a good updraft for extended flights. Our bones are not nearly as hollow and brittle as ordinary birds. And flying straight up is exceedingly difficult. It would take me a long time to gain enough the proper altitude in fairer weather.

“So, in the case of climbing this mountain with you gentlemen, I will be as flightless as you! However, if I were to take off from the peak, and if it were not raining so heavily, I could likely fly halfway across Hyrule before needing to rest, assuming I planned my flight accordingly.”

“I didn’t know that. I just assumed…”

Kass chuckled and shook his head. “It’s quite all right. It is a very normal misconception of our race. And some are better at flight than others. My wife, for example, is a beautiful flier. She is like a dancer in the air. Compared to her, I am, perhaps, more aptly described as a stone. With wings.”

Link couldn’t help but to laugh at this, feeling his spirits lifted. He found that he was happy that Kass had come on this trip. Though the Rito knew too much about Link’s past for his comfort, he was also someone that Link had grown to enjoy being around, even in the short time they’d known each other.

“Does your wife travel with you?” Link said.

“Oh no,” Kass said, his expression growing distant. He looked towards the west. “My wife and daughters had to stay behind in Rito Village. My daughters are just too young to travel by flight yet, and it is too dangerous to travel by road. My hope is to finish my master’s song and make my way back there soon—I feel I have already been gone too long as it is.”

Link looked at him, able to see the sadness in Kass’ eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, though he was unsure of what to say. At that moment, though, a length of rope dropped down from the ledge above and Sidon’s head popped into view.

“Hello, down there!” he said, waving. “Climb up!”

Kass looked at Link with a smile and then motioned with a feathered hand that he should be the first. Link obliged, stepping forward and grasping the rope. It was slick from the rain, but he was able to grip it well enough.

Carefully, he began to pull himself up, using the cliffside for footholds. He was able to pick out the requisite foot holds without much difficulty, making the climb surprisingly easy for him. In only a few short minutes, he had scaled the wall and looked back down at Kass. Kass, for his part, climbed the wall without many problems either. The fingers at the end of his wings gripped the rope well, and he used the talons on his feet for added purchase against the cliff.

When both Kass and Link had climbed the wall, Sidon pulled the rope back up, wrapping it around his shoulder and waist before smiling at them. “That worked magnificently!” he said, winking, before walking back over to the pool of water at the top of this cliff. The ledge they stood on was at the bottom of another waterfall, which Sidon immediately set about swimming up. Link wondered just how many walls they would have to scale before reaching the peak. He did not think this was the cliff from his memory, so he assumed there would be at least one more after this one. 

The rain, ultimately, was their worst enemy on the climb up the mountain. There were only three waterfalls along the path they took towards Ploymus Mountain. The first two passed with little incident, but Link’s hand slipped on the rope while climbing up alongside the third waterfall—the same one from his memory. Fortunately, he had not been too high up when he fell. Unfortunately, the equipment strapped to his back was still quite painful to fall upon.

Link gasped for breath, rolling onto his stomach. After he caught his breath a few moments later, he groaned and sat up on his knees. Kass crouched next to him, peering at him in concern. Link shook his head, closing his eyes tightly, and reaching around to rub the spot on his back that the sword’s scabbard has pressed against.

“Is he all right?” Sidon called down from the top of the cliff. Link’s eyes widened and he whirled, motioning for Sidon to keep quiet. He thought that they might still be far enough away, considering the rain, but if the lynel heard him…

The thought of Sidon facing the lynel alone ultimately helped Link push through the pain in his back and stand. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the rope again and began to climb, one hand over the other, feet finding the small ledges and holes to help propel him higher. He almost slipped again—his hands were aching after climbing so much and the rain had only gotten colder the higher they went—but he gripped the rope fiercely, knuckles turning white from the strain.

Finally, a red-scaled Zora hand gripped his wrist and helped pull him up. He thought back to the events of one hundred years ago, and when he’d been in this exact situation with Sidon’s sister. Perhaps Kass was right about time repeating itself. That, however, did not seem to bode well for his ultimate goals.

Kass wisely tied the end of the rope around his waist and climbed up without nearly as much difficulty as Link had. For all of their feathery appearance, Rito hands were strong, it would seem.

The three of them looked around to each other, expressions growing grim. This was it, then. They still had a walk before they reached the peak, but realistically, the lynel could appear at any given moment. No more laughing, no more stories. Either they would be victorious, or, very possibly, they would perish. It was a sobering thought.

Together, the three turned and continued their journey up the mountain.

Link could not remember how he defeated the lynel in the past. At this moment, that seemed, to him, to be the real tragedy of the memory he’d seen.

He had reached the crest of the same hill from Link’s memory, and he knew what to expect as he crouched low and peered through the tall grass. This was a problem because knowing what to expect didn’t mean that he knew how to deal with it.

Walking tall in the center of the plain was the lynel. Unfortunately, it looked much like the one in his memory had, if not, perhaps, a little bit bigger. It had the body of a large horse, with the torso of a very muscular man, and the head of a red-maned lion. Dark grey fur covered most of its body, with the exception of a few red patches on its hands and arms, its tail, and the its mane. Its body was also scarred in multiple places—patches of white skin where the grey fur did not grow were visible all over its torso, flanks, and arms. A pair of curved horns sprouted from its forehead. Roughly-hewn leather armor covered parts of its body—its chest and flanks—and its long mane had been tied up behind its head in a tail. Strapped to its sides were its weapons—a wide sword that looked half again as long as Link’s sword with a flared tip, a shield with sharpened edges, a bow made of both wood and metal, and a quiver of arrows.

It turned towards him, and Link’s breath caught as he tried to flatten himself against the ground. He could just barely make out the top of the lynel’s head over the grass. He waited… A moment later, the lynel turned, walking further away.

Exhaling slowly, Link edged his way back down the hill until he could safely stand and slink back around to where Sidon and Kass stood, waiting. When he reached them, the three of them drew close, speaking in hushed tones, even if the rain ensured they would not be heard.

“It’s there,” Link said, his expression grim.

“What is it doing?” Sidon glanced up towards the peak. He didn’t look nearly so cheerful anymore.

“Just walking around. It looks on edge.”

“It knows that it has been a while since it has been challenged. Most likely, it is standing at the ready to repel an even larger force of soldiers than before.” Sidon paused. “Did it still have its arrows?”

“I think so. It had a quiver of arrows.”

“Those will be them, then.” Sidon grimaced, looking at Link. “I think we should stick with the original plan. If you keep it occupied up close, I can weaken it with arrows.”

“Are you a good shot?” Link said, suddenly dubious about this plan. It had seemed solid at first, but now that he thought about it, that would also put him in the line of fire.

Sidon grinned. “I am.”

Link looked at Kass, eyebrows raised. The Rito had been quiet while he and Sidon discussed their battle plans.

“I will stay away from the fighting, if I can. Perhaps take up a place of observation on the peak. I believe that I can fly around the mountain to that point without being seen.” Kass’ voice was tense—clearly, he was as anxious about the fight as Link and Sidon were.

Link nodded, looking back to Sidon. The prince had, perhaps, the most dangerous job—something Link was not pleased about. Sidon would unleash the opening volley towards the lynel, drawing its attention in order to allow Link to close the distance without being shot by a shock arrow. In doing so, he put himself at risk of being shot by such an arrow. Link would have to move very quickly indeed.

Sidon nodded at him in turn, pulling his Zora bow from around his shoulders. He still held his spear in his other hand. This was it. Link slowly unsheathed his sword and strapped his shield to his arm; however little good it would do him against such a beast.

“Good luck,” Kass said, placing a feathered hand on each of their shoulders. He would wait for them to engage the beast before making his own move. Once again, Link wondered at the wisdom of bringing him along. Was it truly wise to bring along a non-combatant to such a dangerous situation? It did not matter, he supposed. The die was cast.

Sidon and Link began up the hill, splitting off from each other when they reached the top. Sidon, nearly crawling on his belly, went right while Link angled left, ducking behind a large rocky outcropping. If all went well, Sidon would shoot his arrow to get the lynel’s attention, and Link would charge the beast. By timing their two attacks well, they could cause the lynel to freeze and hopefully end its life before it could properly retaliate. It was a good plan. It had a good chance of—

The lynel roared in fury and Link heard the sudden crackling sound of a shock arrow being drawn. Cursing, he rushed around the outcropping to see the lynel drawing upon Sidon, who hadn’t even had a chance to draw an arrow yet.

“Hey!” Link cried, banging his sword against his shield.

It had the desired effect, for better or ill. The lynel turned its aim towards Link and loosed the shock arrow. He caught a glimpse of the yellow-tipped arrow flying through the air and just managed to avoid being struck in the chest by it by rolling forward. He heard the snap of a bow string. Link looked up just in time to see Sidon’s arrow sink into the lynel’s shoulder. The lynel roared in anger, turning again towards Sidon, drawing another arrow.

Link leaped to his feet, sprinting forward, shield out in front, yelling a battle cry to get the lynel’s attention again. The lynel, this time, ignored Link and shot the arrow at Sidon, who managed to just barely dodge it.

Link sprinted forward, drawing his sword back, hoping to plunge the blade into the lynel and end the fight there. The lynel looked at him, its flat nose flaring, and swung its bow at Link like a two-handed bludgeon. The bow slammed into Link’s shield like a boulder, and Link felt his feet leave the ground as he was thrown several feet to the side before landing in a painful heap.

Dazed, with his right arm aching painfully from taking the brunt of the blow, Link lay still for a moment. He felt, rather than heard, the lynel’s massive hooves pounding the ground a moment later. Eyes widening, Link tucked his arms to his body, rolling to the side. The lynel charged past, one of its hooves coming within inches of crushing Link’s body under its mass.

Sidon shot another arrow at the lynel, this one sinking into its flank. Once again, this had the effect of enraging the lynel, but did not seem to slow it. The lynel roared again, eyes widening in fury, and it pulled a pair of shock arrows from its quiver. It placed both of them on its large bow and drew, taking aim on Sidon’s exposed position. Why hadn’t he taken better cover?

“No!” Link yelled as the lynel released its arrows. They both flew at a slight angle, neither aimed directly at Sidon. He seemed to notice this and froze as both arrows struck the ground on either side of him. This, it would seem, was the lynel’s intent, however, and Link watched with horror as lightning arced across the wet rock Sidon was standing on.

Sidon screamed in pain as electricity ran up his body, dropping his bow and falling to the ground, body spasming. The Zora prince did not rise as Link watched, and he feared the worst.

Gripping his sword in a white knuckled grip, Link pushed himself to his feet and ran at the lynel. The lynel turned towards him and swung its bow again. Link anticipated this move and ducked low while thrusting his sword up. He did not succeed in running the lynel through, as he’d hoped, but did manage to give the lynel a shallow cut just above inside of its front-leg’s shoulder.

The lynel reared back on its hindquarters, and Link rolled to the side, avoiding its defensive kick. When the hooves came back down, the ground under Link’s feet trembled slightly. The lynel was far larger than he thought, now that he was up close. His head barely reached its torso. How had he ever defeated this beast?

Link stood, still gripping his sword and shield, and met the lynel’s eyes. They were a shocking green. For a moment, the two of them stood still, eyes locked. Warrior and warrior. The lynel strapped the bow to its waist and pulled its sword and shield free. Link exhaled slowly and chanced a quick glance over at Sidon. He still had not moved. Was he even still alive?

The lynel roared its challenge and charged at Link, drawing its sword arm back to cut him in two. Link waited until the last moment before leaping to the side, avoiding both the crushing hooves and the wicked blade’s arc. The lynel kept charging ahead, coming back around in a large arc, while Link waited. The lynel turned and charged again, expression one of fury.

Link sidestepped. The lynel was large and powerful, with long arms and a clear height advantage, but Link had the advantage of being far nimbler. As the lynel passed by this time, Link scored a shallow cut on its rear hip. The lynel swung its sword back, but Link was already comfortably out of range.

Angry, the lynel looped back around, its nostrils flared. It approached Link slower this time, not charging, and stopped when Link was just within its reach. It swung its sword, which Link avoided by stepping back. The lynel roared in anger, swinging the other way while leaning forward to give it better reach. Link, however, spun away—again avoiding the devastating blade.

He was beginning to feel more comfortable fighting the beast. Though his mind did not remember fighting the lynel on Ploymus Mountain before, his muscles did. He needed to remain light on his feet, make it angry, make it sloppy. The exhilaration of the fight made his heart race with anticipation. Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he could see how this battle would end.

When he came back around to face the lynel, his eyes were focused, expression set. His fear had evaporated, replaced by certainty. The lynel swung and Link moved just out of reach, thrusting his sword and catching the lynel’s forearm as it passed. The lynel’s shield was brought to bear as it attempted to slam it into Link’s face, but Link dodged, knocking the shield aside with his own.

Yes, he could fight this beast.

Link began to dance around the lynel, his feet constantly moving. While it was difficult to get good cuts of his own in, he knew it was only a matter of time. The lynel was getting angrier. It turned, again, to face him and thrust its sword towards Link’s heart. Link moved to the side and used his shield to slam the lynel’s blade down, into the ground. Spinning, Link swung his sword in a wide arc that swung just underneath the lynel’s ready shield, cutting deep into its front leg.

The lynel reared, roaring in pain, and Link sprinted forward, just under the kicking legs, well past the lynel’s guard. He thrust his sword into the lynel’s flank, which caused its whole body to spasm in sudden pain. The lynel danced away from Link, placing a large hand to its side, where Link had pierced it. When it brought its hand back, it dripped blood.

The lynel roared in fury, jumping back with a shockingly powerful leap. It landed a dozen feet away and Link prepared for another charge. The lynel, however, did not charge. Instead, it took a deep breath, filling its lungs with air.

What is it—

It breathed fire.

The lynel breathed fire.

Or, more accurately, Link noted as he rolled to the side, the lynel breathed a massive ball of fire. He felt the heat of it as it passed by, burning the wet grass in its path to black ash. The lynel took another breath, and Link’s eyes widened. He got to his feet and began to sprint in a wide semi-circle, the fireballs passing just behind him.

He was so focused on escaping the blasts of fire, that he almost didn’t hear the hooves pounding the earth again. He turned his head just in time to see the lynel bearing down on him. It no longer had its weapons in its hands, but loped towards him on all six of its limbs, using its powerful arms as another set of legs. Its head was down, those wicked horns pointed right at Link’s torso.

Link got his shield up just in time and, rather than being trampled or gored by horns, he was knocked to the side like a ragdoll. He hit the ground in a painful roll. When he came up, his left hand was empty—the sword had been knocked free of his grasp! He looked around, wide eyed, but it was lost among the tall grass of the clearing. The lynel had already turned, its sword and shield free again, and it ran towards Link.

Link jumped back, avoiding the first cut, and then leaped to the side, narrowly missing the second. He had no weapons. He had the Sheikah Slate, true, but hardly had any time to pull it free and navigate its menus. Stasis could be useful, but he was certain that he would be dead long before he could pull it free and select the lynel for the stasis field.

The lynel bore down on him, relentless in its furious attack. Link deflecting one sword attack with his shield, knocking the lynel’s sword aside from striking his body. The cost was a sharp pain in his shoulder—he could not keep doing that without dislocating or breaking something.

The lynel swung both its sword and shield at him in tandem, and Link did a backflip, the two bladed weapons passing under him as he leaped through the air. He landed several feet back. This move seemed to surprise the lynel, which eyed him with narrowed eyes. The surprise did not last, however, and it approached again, towering over Link.

With a shock, Link realized that his back was up against a rock outcropping. The lynel seemed to realize it as well, as a smile split its feline mouth, revealing a set of four vicious looking fangs. It positioned its shield to the side, ready to catch Link if he dodged that way, and raised its sword to end him.

An arrow suddenly sprouted from the lynel’s shield arm. The lynel roared in pain and confusion and Link bolted, sprinting under the shield. The lynel brought the bladed shield down a moment too late, allowing Link the chance to escape.

Sidon, in the grass not far away, lowered his bow and bent down. “Link!” he cried as he stood and threw something at Link.

The object arced through the air and Link caught it. Sidon’s silvery spear glittered in his hand. Its point was shaped almost like a fish’s tail, with a pair of curved points and a sharp edge between them, providing both a pointed edge to stab, and a bladed edge to slice.

The lynel charged at Link’s exposed back. Link could hear its roar and felt the ground tremble under its hooves. Sidon’s eyes widened. Link spun.

He placed the butt of the spear in the ground and angled the point up. The lynel saw its mistake a split second too late, and the spear’s point, shining in the dim overcast light of day, pierced the center of its chest, right underneath its ribcage.

This, Link was surprised to find, did not quite kill it. Even though it had been completely run through—and through where he had expected its heart would be—it still swung its sword at Link. He barely jumped back, avoiding being cut in two.

The lynel stood up straight, the spear still impaling its chest. With a shock, Link saw that the spear had actually been rammed all the way through, and the point jutted out from the lynel’s back. It roared, but it was a more guttural sound than before. Blood dripped from its red mane below its mouth. It took a step towards Link, but he saw now that its movements were growing sluggish. Its legs trembled, and its shield arm hung loosely by its side.

Still, though, it tried to take another swing at Link, desperately—angrily—trying to kill him before it, too, died. Another arrow flew through the air, lodging deeply in its side. The lynel flinched, but it kept towards Link, causing the smaller man to retreat.

His foot landed on something other than grass and dirt, and he looked down, spotting, not his sword, but another Zora spear. Perhaps, leftover from one of the other Zora that had challenged the beast. He picked it up, surprised to find that its metal haft had been broken in two. It was barely longer than a sword now. It would do.

The lynel swung its sword at Link again, bloody teeth bared in a snarl. Link used the broken spear to knock the sword aside—the lynel’s swings lacked the power it had before—and he lunged forward, driving the spear’s point into the lynel’s gut. He pulled it free and stabbed again at one of the lynel’s front legs.

Both of the lynel’s front legs gave out and it fell to its knees, groaning. Another two new arrows sprouted from the lynel’s flank and back. Link stepped back, watching the now motionless lynel as it knelt. Both of its arms hung limply by its sides now, and it bled from a dozen different wounds all over its body.

It turned its lion head to look at Link, and he saw rage in its green eyes. It tried to roar again, but the only sound it made was a bloody gurgle. Sidon released another arrow and this one struck the back of the lynel’s head. Link watched, grimacing, as the life left the lynel’s green eyes. Its mouth hung slack and torso slumped forward, suspended by Sidon’s spear.

Sidon remained silent as he slowly approached to stand beside Link and they surveyed their gruesome victory. After a few moments, Sidon placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Thank you,” he said, his voice strained. “You’ve done the Zora—me—a great service this day, Link.”

Link nodded, silently, lips drawn into a thin line. Memories flashed through his head. Another lynel, just like this, though smaller. Younger. Dancing around its flashing blade—it hadn’t had a shield—and making multiple cuts with his sword. Mipha had helped, too, using her trident to stab with unerring accuracy. Link had been the one to deliver the final blow then, swinging his sword in a powerful spin that severed limbs.

He hadn’t felt particularly victorious on that day either.

Another person approached—Kass—walking through the grass and holding Link’s fallen sword. He must have seen where the sword landed from his vantage point. Link mutely took the sword and sheathed it. He placed his shield on his back as well, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He was a warrior. A killer. But he had also defeated a beast—a terror that killed many Zora. He could—he would—take solace in that fact.

After a time, Sidon finally looked down at Link and smiled. “Come,” he said. “Let us go to the peak. You can see Vah Ruta from there, and we can plan our next steps.”

Link nodded before walking to the lynel and gently removing the quiver of arrows from its waist. He pulled one of the arrows out, satisfied to see its yellow tip. Shock arrows. The Divine Beast. There was another reason for this battle today.

Divine Beast Vah Ruta stood far below Shatterback Point. It stood in the midst of the East Reservoir Lake far below, created by Zora generations ago when they made the dam that prevented the flooding of Hyrule in times of heavy rain. Of course, no one expected, at that time, that they would ever experience heavy rain like this.

Ruta was distant enough that it was difficult for Link to make out fine details, but he could see its large shape in the water. It looked much like it had in the mural on Impa’s wall. Vaguely elephant shaped, with a stocky body, four thick legs, and a long trunk. The trunk was currently pointed to the heavens, and, from it, mist and water sprayed. The mist rose into the air, spiraling about itself until it reached the clouds overhead—which where much closer at this altitude.

This was how Ruta was creating the rain, then.

“Incredible,” Kass said from beside him. Link wondered if he could see the Divine Beast better than he could with his avian eyes.

Sidon remained silent for a time. He gazed down at Ruta, his expression difficult to read. Link thought he saw sorrow there, but it was fleeting. Finally, after a time, Sidon looked at Link and then nodded to the distant black wall that made up the dam.

“I think we should just approach from the front. Based on our experiences, Ruta does not feel the need to defend itself until someone enters its waters,” Sidon said, pointing. “So, we’ll use the dam to climb up to the reservoir. From there, you shall use your shock arrows on key points on Vah Ruta’s body. This should disable her systems long enough to get on board. From there…” Sidon trailed off, likely thinking the same thing Link was. Neither of them knew what to expect once Link got on board Ruta.

Link nodded, slowly. “It should work,” he said, though he truly did not know if it would or not.

“Oh, I’m confident it will,” Sidon said, grinning at Link. Link looked at the prince, eyebrows raised in question. “Link, after today, I am nothing but confident in your abilities to be victorious over anything you face.”

I can’t beat everything, Link thought as he forced a smile. Not after one hundred years ago.

The three looked down at Divine Beast Vah Ruta for a time longer. Far below them, it made a loud trumpeting sound, and a few moments later, the rain seemed to come down even harder.

Sidon cleared his throat and stepped back from the precipice, looking at each of them in turn. “Well, shall we?”

Link and Kass both turned from the Divine Beast, and together, they began to make their way down Ploymus Mountain.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

Their return to the city was much easier than climbing the mountain had been. Link rappelled down the cliffs with Sidon’s help while Kass simply glided down on his large wings. After he was secure on the ground, Sidon would let the rope fall for him to gather before diving off the waterfall or, once, somehow sliding down the falls, feet first, in a fast, but controlled descent.

“Well, it would seem that someone noticed that I was gone,” Sidon said thoughtfully after they climbed down the final cliff and began towards the bridge leading into the city. Evening was beginning to fall, and Link saw that the mouth of the bridge was occupied by several anxious-looking Zora with holding staffs with glowing blue tips aloft, each casting a ring of pale light around them. He recognized several of them as being from Sidon’s guard. To his dismay, he saw that some of the older Zora that had shown him scorn were present as well.

“Prince Sidon!” the elder named Seggin called as the three stepped into view. Others echoed the call, and several of the younger Zora, Bazz included, rushed forward to greet the prince.

There was a moment of confusion as multiple Zora began speaking at once, all seemingly demanding answers for why Sidon had gone with Link. Finally, the prince held up his hands, speaking in a firm, authoritative tone. “Enough.” The voices around him quieted, and he gave a satisfied smile. “I decided to go with Link to slay the lynel.”

Seggin turned to Link, holding his spear in a tight grip. His expression was dangerous. “After what you did to Mipha, you dare endanger another of the royal family? I should strike you down where you stand!”

Sidon swiftly moved to stand between Link and the older Zora, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I went of my own volition, Seggin. Link did not encourage this. In fact, he actively tried to discourage it.”

“But Prince Sidon, your father forbade you from—”

“I am well aware of my father’s commands, thank you,” Sidon said, his tone growing cool.

“Well?” Bazz said. “Did you do it? Is the lynel dead? It is, isn’t it?”

Sidon smiled and glanced back over his shoulder. “Link?”

Link pulled the lynel’s quiver of shock arrows from his shoulder and held it aloft for the gathered Zora to see. Many of the Zora gave a cheer at the sight, and Bazz, along with several of the others in his cohort, gathered closer to slap the pair of them on the backs or congratulate them on their victory.

Seggin and a few of the other elders still looked disgruntled, but none of them had any other objections to speak aloud. Together, the procession began back across the bridge while Kass began telling those who wished to hear the tale of their victory. Link noticed that the Kass embellished the fight somewhat. He didn’t leave out their struggles in the fight, but somehow made them seem nobler.

Absently, he wondered if this tale would still be told in a hundred years, as the story of the last lynel he vanquished with Mipha was. He supposed that it would depend on whether or not he succeeded in saving them all from the Divine Beast.

When they reached the city, it would seem that the news of their victory had not yet spread—unsurprising, considering that the only ones aware of their return were present. Still, though, there was a clear air of anticipation over the city. Several Zora stood near the bridge and whispered amongst themselves as the group passed. He couldn’t hear their whispers, but he had an idea of what they pertained.

They returned from the lynel. Alive. It likely meant only one thing.

The group dispersed as they reached the city. Now that Sidon had safely returned, most of them were no longer needed and would return to their families or guard positions. Link imagined that the news of their victory would spread quickly.

When they finally reached the palace, Sidon chose to enter first, explaining to him that he would explain his own actions before calling him in. He was left outside with Bazz and Seggin. The older Zora still wanted nothing to do with him and went to stand at the opposite side of the entrance.

Bazz stepped closer, glancing at Seggin and then smiling down at him. “So, what was it like? The lynel?”

Link looked up at Bazz, seeing a youthful excitement there. He wished that he could remember their childhood friendship. Finally, he said, “It was big.”

Bazz laughed and began prodding Link for more details, which he reluctantly gave, emphasizing Sidon’s contributions in the battle. For all that he had done, Sidon’s actions likely saved his life.

After a few minutes, Link and Kass were both summoned inside. The chamber within was largely empty, with the exception of King Dorephan, Sidon to his right, and Muzu to his left. The older Zora scowled at him when he entered, which he tried to ignore, focusing, instead, on Dorephan’s smiling face.

“Welcome, my friend,” King Dorephan said, leaning forward as he entered. “My son tells me that you have been victorious in your quest. That is twice now that you have slain such a creature in service for the Zora—a feat that will most certainly be recorded in our histories for generations to come.”

Link stepped up onto the dais, bowing respectfully. “Thank you, your majesty,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. He truly wasn’t sure how to address royalty. Distantly, he wondered how he had addressed Princess Zelda while traveling with her. Did they have the kind of easy comradery that Sidon had with his guards?

“It should be noted, though, that Prince Sidon did much to help defeat the lynel as well. I do not know if I could have done it without his help.” Link paused, considering. “And it was he that finally put an end to its life.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sidon smile. “Oh, I think it was well and dying before I put it out of its misery,” he said, though Link heard a distinct note of pride in his voice.

Dorephan glanced towards Sidon and then back at Link. Finally, he laughed. “To hear my son tell it, he did very little, yet you say that he was instrumental in the victory. Humility is an admirable trait in anyone, though, perhaps, misplaced when speaking to a king looking for ways to reward you for your deeds.

“And, as for my son’s actions, though I cannot say that I approve of his disobedience…” King Dorephan looked towards Sidon, whose smile faded. “I also cannot deny the service rendered by both of you. Reckless, it may have been, yet I can hardly blame him. It is the duty of a king to protect his people, after all, and I have participated in my own share of dangerous battles. You shall make a good king one day, Sidon.”

Sidon seemed to swell at this praise, looking up at his father gratefully. “Thank you, father, though not anytime soon, I would hope!”

“I should hope not!” King Dorephan laughed before turning his attention back towards Link and Kass. “And, minstrel, I understand that you accompanied them in order to witness the deed.”

“I did, your majesty,” Kass said, inclining his head respectfully.

“I hope that I may one day hear the song that will come of this day, then.”

Kass smiled. “I have already begun composing it in my head, your majesty. I will certainly return to play it for you when I have it completed.”

“Excellent!” King Dorephan clapped his massive hands together and his demeanor changed subtly. He seemed more relaxed all of a sudden, and his tone, when he spoke next, had dropped some of the regality. “Muzu, you have the armor?”

“I do, your majesty,” Muzu said, his voice tense. “But are you sure you wish to give this to him? It is a treasure to the Zora, after all, and he—”

“It is his,” Dorephan said. “She made it for him. You know this.”

“I am still not convinced—”

“We have already discussed this, and my position is firm. I wish to give it to Link, as she wanted. I daresay that I know my daughter’s intentions better than you.”

As he watched the exchange between them, Link found himself confused. Armor? Mipha? He didn’t know what to make of it all. Finally, Muzu, chastised, turned and retrieved a neatly folded bundle of clothing. Sitting atop it was a simple headpiece—a silver helmet with a blue hood draped over it. Link met Muzu at the bottom of the dais, reaching out and taking the clothing—which felt much too light to be considered true armor.

“My daughter made that armor for you, Link,” Dorephan said, his voice growing somber. “She finished it while you were still traveling with Princess of Hyrule before the Calamity, but I understand she had a difficult time finding the right time to see that you received it.”

The bundle of cloth, leather, and silver in his hands took on a new meaning to Link. He looked down at it to inspect it closer and found that he could see that the chest piece had actually been mostly made of interlocking scales, much like a chainmail. Zora scales? he thought as he touched them. The armor was folded in his arms, so it was difficult to see all of the details in the armor, but it looked to be a complicated piece of work.

Mipha had made this for him?

“I do not believe she would object to my giving this to you with the hopes that you wear it when you go on to tame the Divine Beast.”

Link looked up at the king, a little stunned by the gift. He thought back to his only true memory of Mipha—climbing Ploymus Mountain to defeat the previous lynel. He’d been told of his friendship with Mipha since arriving at Zora’s Domain, but that memory had awoken something in him that confirmed it. He had been friends with her—close friends.

This gift, unlike the gifts he received from Telma, which had been in thanks, or from Impa, which had been symbolic, was the gift from one friend to another.

It was the only one that Link, currently, had any memory of receiving.

It was, perhaps, a little absurd. He barely knew anything about Mipha, but he deeply appreciated this thoughtful act. It was enough to make his heart swell and his throat constrict with emotion.

It took Link a moment before he spoke. “Thank you, your majesty. I… yes. Yes, I will wear it. Of course.”

“Very good,” the king said, nodding in satisfaction. “I am sure that she would be pleased if you did. My Mipha, she…” He hesitated, seeming to consider whether or not he should say anything. “Well, she cared for you. She cared deeply for you.”

There was something in the king’s expression that gave Link a moment of pause. Something that he wasn’t saying. Something that Link felt as though he should know. What had been between Mipha and him? Something about their relationship didn’t sit quite right with him.

He was roused from his thoughts as King Dorephan announced that they were preparing a feast in his honor for defeating the lynel and his eventual taming of Ruta. He excused himself from the throne room, deciding that he wanted to drop his gear off back at the inn before engaging in a feast. He took Mipha’s armor with him, still uncertain of what significance it held. He decided to bring it up to Sidon later, if he had the chance.

Even though rain still fell from the sky, it was clear that the tribe of Zora had not had occasion to celebrate in some time. While the feast itself took place in the domed palace—upon tables that had clearly been brought up for Link’s benefit—other signs of celebration appeared throughout the city. Several shops announced special sales, while an impromptu diving competition was set up. Some encouraged Link to join in, but he declined. Somehow, he did not think he would be as successful when diving off of the city into the lake below as the Zora were.

The evening had grown late by the time he finally extricated himself from the feast hall, where Kass had been playing songs of ancient Zora heroes, including one song about King Dorephan himself. As he made his way down the stairs down to the bottom level of Zora’s Domain, and the bed that awaited him, he was surprised to see Sidon standing in front of the statue of Mipha in the center. He’d thought that the Zora prince had gone to bed.

He approached, his footsteps splashing through the constant puddle of water. He’d finally relented and just taken his boots off, leaving them back in his room, and had rolled his pantlegs to his calves. It certainly made it a lot easier to get around in Zora’s Domain, though the water was chillier than he would have preferred.

Sidon looked at him and smiled pensively before looking back up at the statue. “I used to be jealous of you and my sister. Did you know that?”

Link frowned, looking between Sidon and the statue. “No, I didn’t. My memory…”

“Yes, of course, I am sorry,” Sidon said quickly, abashed. “You act and speak with such confidence that it is easy to forget that you have not yet recovered your memories yet.”

Confidence? Is that what he sees in me? Link wondered with surprise. He certainly didn’t feel confident. If anything, he felt even more certain that he could not succeed where Mipha perished. He had no idea what to expect. He had no idea what killed Mipha and the other Champions. All he knew was that he had to try. For Mipha. For Princess Zelda. For any number of Hylians, Sheikah, Zora, Gorons, Gerudo, and Rito that were counting on him.

“No, it’s… fine,” he finally said. “Why were you jealous?”

Sidon remained silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “It took me a while to be sure it was you. I do not have many clear memories of my sister, myself, you see. But I have this fuzzy memory of a Hylian swordsman spending time with her. I think I worried that he was taking her away from me.”

Link remained silent, and Sidon glanced down at him, smiling.

“So I suppose I could say that I remember you from one hundred years ago as well, vague though the memory might be.” Sidon looked back at the statue of Mipha. “It’s strange to think about how things could have been different. To hear father tell it, you and Mipha would have been wed. You and I would be brothers.”

Link started. “What?” He tore his eyes from the statue, looking again to Sidon. “Were we—”

Sidon laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I have no idea, so don’t bother asking. What I do know—based on the stories that my father has told me over the years—is that Mipha cared for you. Loved you. That is why she made that armor.

“You see, that armor is a tradition among Zora royalty. Zora princesses and queens craft armor for their husbands-to-be. There is a tale behind it, of course, but suffice it to say that the armor is typically given during an engagement. Their husbands—or betrothed—are expected to wear it into battle as a sign of the love and trust shared between them.

“So, you see, when my father asked you to wear the armor into battle tomorrow…” Sidon sighed softly. “Well, it’s a symbolic gesture, of course. My father supported my sister’s intentions, and this is probably his way of trying to honor her wishes, in a way.”

Link tried to process this information. It was not Mipha’s affection for him that bothered him, but it was the lack of knowledge that he had regarding his affections for her. Had he loved her in return? When she died, had he lost a friend or a lover? The fact that he did not know seemed horribly wrong. A disservice.

Sidon watched Link as he contemplated. Finally, he spoke again, his tone soft. “I apologize if this has caused you some discomfort. That is why my father did not mention it, I believe. But I felt that you should know why that armor was crafted for you.”

“No, it’s not…” Link looked up at the statue, at the exquisitely crafted face of Mipha there. “I just wish I remembered more. I wish I knew if I felt the same way.”

“Perhaps you soon will,” Sidon said, squeezing his shoulder before letting his hand fall. “In the meantime, I do think that she would be honored for you to wear the armor.” He smiled suddenly. “Besides, it will drive Muzu mad, and that is always a worthwhile goal.”

Link could not find it within himself to smile at this comment, and after a moment of silence, he asked the question that had been on his mind since arriving here. “Do you know why they blame me?”

Sidon sighed softly, as if he had been expecting this question. “I believe it is because they do not wish to admit that Mipha failed. My sister is held on a pedestal so high that she might as well be infallible. Deific. It is easier to blame you—and your princess—for Mipha’s death, rather than admit that she failed in her own duty.

“Calamity Ganon rose. Many Zora lost their lives in the days that followed his awakening, and my sister was supposed to be an integral part in preventing that.”

“But we all failed,” Link said, frowning. “All four Champions died. I wasn’t much better off. It is hardly Mipha’s fault that she was killed.”

“Yes, but I believe it also gives them an excuse to keep us isolated in Zora’s Domain. Rather than venturing out to seek alliances and, perhaps, retake some of the land, we Zora remain relatively protected in our river.”

“But you don’t agree?”

“Not at all. And I think that many Zora feel the same way I do. But these are not just my father’s closest advisors, but also his military leaders. And, though my father does not blame you for Mipha’s death the same way the others do, I do think that he blames the partnership between the races. I believe that he and the others hope that, if we stay here, we will be safe.”

Sidon sighed, shaking his head, before saying, “For being such a long-living people, we can be shockingly short-sighted at times. Mipha, alone, chose her path. She knew its dangers and knew that she had to do her part to not only save the Zora, but to keep the entire land safe.”

Link thought back to when he and Mipha had gone up Ploymus Mountain together. She had been insistent on going with him, on doing her part. But she had gone up the mountain only because he had chosen to do so. The thought nagged at him. Had her decision to become a Champion been the same way? Had she only chosen to do so because he, the man she apparently loved, had also tied himself to that fate?

If that was the case, then it was his fault that she died.

The thought continued to bother Link that night, even after he and Sidon parted and he lay in bed. The armor haunted him, sitting upon a small table by his bed. Had it been Mipha’s love for him that got her killed?

Link did not dream that night, and when he awoke, he felt as though he had not slept much at all. His entire body felt stiff and sore from the previous day’s activities, and his right shoulder, in particular. That did not bode well for his task that day.

As he rose, his eyes fell on the armor that had been neatly folded on the small table. He appreciated Sidon’s honesty but couldn’t help but to wish that the Zora prince had kept the true purpose of the armor to himself, at least until after he had dealt with the Divine Beast. It was a distraction that he didn’t need.

The inn had a screen with which to change behind. Zora typically did not wear much in the way clothing, so the need for privacy while changing clothing was lost on them. The privacy screen was there for their non-Zora guests, however, and he appreciated it. He took the Zora armor behind that screen and began to put it on.

The Zora armor was quite unlike the tunics he was used to wearing. It was made up of several different components. Its initial layer was a shirt and pants that appeared to be made up of some kind of fabric made with small Zora scales dyed blue, with the exception of one, larger silver scale in the center of the chest, just over where his heart would be. It was very thin, and Link wondered at its protective capabilities. It did not seem to be very sturdy. It fit him well, however, without bunching or cinching anywhere.

His back, upper arms, and thighs were all protected by another layer of scale armor. This layer was made of thicker, brown scales that had a soft, leathery feel to them. Pieces of metal had been placed to protect his extremities and the most vulnerable places. Surprisingly thin boots covered his feet, ending in a trio of webbed toes that his own toes slipped into. The gloves were similarly made, with simple webbing between four of his fingers, but none between his thumb and forefinger.

Finally, Link placed the helmet on his head. It was made of both a skull cap that protected his forehead and scalp and a layer of Zora scale fabric that hung down behind his head, neck, and the sides of his face.

The armor was incredibly light. Even the pieces of metal seemed far lighter than they should have been, and each of these had been clearly crafted and placed with flexibility in mind. Even wearing the various pieces of armor, Link felt like his freedom of movement had not been overly affected. He wondered if Mipha had purposely made the armor to complement his acrobatic fighting style.

He picked up his sword and tested his mobility in the center of the room, going through a few exercises with it in hand. The armor clung to him like a second skin, never getting in the way of his movements. The pieces of metal were silent as well, never clattering together or shifting uncomfortably. Link finally finished off his exercise with a quick backflip, landing easily on his feet.

“Wow, Linny.” Kodah, the female Zora innkeeper, had stepped into the room from the entryway—there were no doorways and she had probably been able to see him the entire time. He felt his cheeks grow hot with a blush.

“Sorry, I was just testing out the—”

“That’s the armor that Mipha made for you, isn’t it?” she asked, stepping closer and inspecting his appearance. Link nodded, suddenly curious about what she knew of the armor. “She worked for months making it.” Kodah made a circle around Link, nodding with a smile. “She would be happy to see you wearing it now. She wanted so badly to give it to you but never could work up the courage.”

“She… wanted to ask me to marry her?” he asked, hesitant.

She laughed softly. “Oh, someone already informed you of that, I take it? Well, yes. That was her hope.” The Zora paused, looking out of the open wall, into the distance. “It took her a long time to gather all of the supplies, and once she had them, she refused to let anyone help her. It all had to be done by her hand, as was tradition. Even the silver scale.” Kodah poked Link’s chest, where the silvery scale was. “That’s Mipha’s own.”

Link reached up, touching the scale, frowning.

“It looks good on you, Linny,” she said, stepping back. She smiled warmly at Link. “I know she would be proud.”

Distantly, Link heard the call of a horn. Kodah stiffened, looking around in surprise. He stepped up next to her. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a call to battle…” Kodah said absently. “I haven’t heard it in ages, though. Not since the Calamity.”

Link moved quickly, gathering up the supplies he had set aside for the Divine Beast. His sword and shield, his bow and shock arrows, the Sheikah Slate. Kodah helped him strap the equipment to his body. Mipha had clearly thought of this as well and had provided ways to strap his sword and shield to his back with ease, as well as places to carry his bow and arrows.

Finally, thanking Kodah, he sprinted out of the inn, passing by Finley, Kodah’s daughter, who rushed inside to be with her mother.

“Link!” Sidon called, just as he exited the inn. The Zora ran up to him, holding his spear. “It’s the lizalfos. Somehow, they made it all the way up the river during the night. None of our scouts reported them.”

Link gritted his teeth. “How close are they? I’ll help, I can—”

“There’s no time for that,” Sidon said, quickly. “We just got a report from the dam. It’s been sabotaged. We think that someone used explosive charges to create weaknesses in its structural integrity. It’s leaking, and it could break soon. Our engineers are doing what they can to slow it, but as long as it’s raining like this, they won’t be able to slow it enough to fix it. We have to get you to the Divine Beast immediately to try to shut it down. I was coming down to tell you when the lizalfos were spotted.”

Everything fell into place. The rain, the sabotage, the lizalfos, and maybe even the lynel. These were not random, or even separate, events. This had been a planned maneuver. Link looked up at Sidon and saw, from the prince’s strained expression, that he realized it too. Their eyes met.

“Let’s go,” Link said. Sidon nodded, and the two of them headed off to the same bridge they had taken the day before.

The journey to the East Reservoir Dam took far longer than was comfortable. Link could tell that Sidon was worried about his soldiers fighting the lizalfos without him, but when Link offered that someone else could help him with the Divine Beast, he shook his head. “This is something that I have to do,” he said, without any further explanation.

The East Reservoir Dam stood over them like a monolith, but they wasted no time admiring its architecture, which bore a great deal of resemblance to the bridges. Instead, they found the staircase that led to its top and began to climb. Sidon ran up them three and four steps at a time, leaving Link to struggle to keep up.

Finally, they reached the top of the dam. In normal circumstances, there would have been a walkway at the top the dam, with stairs that led down to lower levels for access to its controls. The heavy rain, however, had caused the water level to rise and completely cover the walkway and flood the interior, even threatening to begin pouring over the dam’s lip, despite the efforts the Zora had made to relieve the pressure.

As they waded out into the water, Link looked out across the lake and saw, in its center, the distant Divine Beast. Its trunk was still pointed to the sky, and a cloud of mist and water sprayed out from it, forming the dark clouds overhead. It was positioned in the center of the massive lake. He would have no way to reach it alone.

“Okay, Link,” Sidon said, wading into the water until he reached the end of the submerged stone walkway. The water grew far deeper here, giving it a much darker appearance. “You’ll have to ride on my back while I swim. When we get closer, it is going to start attacking. You’ll need to just hold on when that happens, and I’ll do my best to get you close enough to use the arrows.” Sidon hesitated. “Try not to shoot the water with them. I don’t know how far the electricity will travel.”

Link nodded and approached Sidon, the water up to his knees. It seemed like it was already rising—how much longer before the dam broke? Was there enough time? It doesn’t matter, he told himself. I still have to try.

Sidon waded out into the deep water, treading water easily, and he followed. He had expected his gear to weigh him down but was shocked to find that they felt light in the water. He was able to tread water effortlessly, regardless of the weaponry on his back. It was surreal enough that he checked his back to make sure that everything was still there, but yes, he had everything. He wasn’t sure if this was an effect of the armor or the Zora weaponry he carried. Perhaps both. Either way, he was grateful for it.

“Are you ready?” Sidon asked, moving closer to him and turning so that his back was to Link.

“Do I really have a choice?” he said dryly.

Sidon looked back and grinned. “No.”

“Then I’m ready.” Link moved closer and placed his hands on the Zora’s shoulders. The Zora eased himself onto his stomach, and Link, somewhat uncomfortably, straddled his back.

As soon as his grip was secure, Sidon took off. He swam through the water at a blistering pace, his arms to his side, feet doing the majority of the propelling. They moved fast enough through the placid lake that the falling rain stung Link’s exposed face. Link bounced on Sidon’s back, doing everything he could to hold on, lest he fall. How was he supposed to shoot arrows like this?

They crossed the lake far faster than Link had assumed possible. Soon, they were close enough for Link to begin making out some of the details on Divine Beast Vah Ruta, which only grew larger and larger as they drew near. It was massive. Elephant-like in shape, with four massive legs that somehow kept it above the depths of the lake, a thick, cylindrical body, a head with two large ear-like protrusions, and a long, segmented trunk. It was entirely mechanical in nature, covered in gears and strange, red-purple lights. Something on its body always seemed to be moving, spinning, or hissing steam. Without a doubt, it was Ancient Sheikah in nature; its body made of the same combination of metal and stone that all of the other Sheikah structures had been made of, with Sheikah designs carved into it.

“Link, do you see the glowing sections on her back, just above her legs?” Sidon asked as they got closer. He began to swim in a wide circle around Ruta, slowing his speed, which Link was grateful for. He was still far enough away that the Divine Beast did not react to their presence, as he said it would as they got closer.

It took Link a moment, as the Divine Beast had quite a few glowing sections on its body, but he thought that he found them. He could see four glowing spots of red light, held within stone enclosures that protruded out of the Divine Beast’s back, just above its legs.

“The schematics that we have for Ruta suggest that many of her functions are tied to those spots.” Sidon slowed further, looking back at Link to make sure he understood. “If you can hit all four of them with the shock arrows, we think that it may shut her down. At least, that’s what we hope for.”

The targets were, from what he could tell at this distance, large enough that hitting one with an arrow should not be so difficult in normal circumstances, even in motion. Of course, straddling Sidon’s back as he was, this was hardly a normal circumstance.

“Are you ready?” Sidon looked back at him, and at his nod, grinned, showing teeth. “Then let’s go!”

Sidon kicked off, angling directly for the Divine Beast. Link pulled his bow free—it was a newer bow of Zora design, which was made to be used in wet climates. It was made of the same silvery metal as their other weapons, and the bowstring was coated with something that helped it repel water without losing its tautness. He wasn’t sure about its design, feeling convinced that its range would not be as good as that of his Sheikah bow. At least it would not get damaged from the rain, though.

The Divine Beast made a trumpeting sound, and Sidon called back, “It’s noticed us!” Link looked up and saw that the Divine Beast had turned in the water, placing its side to them. “Hold on, Link!”

Link watched in some amazement as the water next to the Divine Beast rose into the air, taking shape. There was a sudden and familiar series of cracking noises that rang out, as the water froze solid, sending out a puff of ice crystals and snow that quickly dispersed in the rain. Where the water had been moments before, now there were jagged shards of ice, each the length of a man’s arm.

“It must really not like you!” Sidon called as the first ice spike shot forward, straight at Link. He turned in the water, forcing Link to lean low to prevent himself from being thrown off. The ice spike passed harmlessly by, plunging into the depths of the water. “Usually, it just throws blocks of ice at any Zora that get nearby.”

Ruta sent another ice spike at the pair of them, and Sidon made another hard turn. The ice spike flew by, immediately followed by a second one. As the Divine Beast created another set of ice spikes, Link was certain that it was using the Cryonis rune somehow. It made sense, though—these Divine Beasts were made by the same people who made his Sheikah Slate, after all.

“I need you to get closer!” Link said, looking away from the floating ice spikes and to the glowing nodes on the construct’s back.

“I’m trying!”

Sidon turned, swimming straight for the Divine Beast. As an ice spike shot towards them, he adjusted his course just enough that the spike passed by Link’s shoulder without striking him. It came far closer than before, though.

Link ducked his head as another spike flew past. As soon as it passed, he sat back up, nocked an arrow, and drew. Aa he did so, he felt the muscles in his arm clench as the shock arrow activated. It was not as severe of a shock as the lizalfos arrow had been, however—better made arrows, perhaps? It was enough, however, to cause Sidon beneath him to gasp, shuddering.

“Are you all right?” Link said, looking down at him in concern. He hadn’t expected the arrow’s feedback to transfer through him to Sidon.

“Yes!” Sidon said, gritting his teeth. “Do it!”

Link pursed his lips and looked forward again, holding on to Sidon with his knees. Cracks sounded through the air as Ruta created more ice spikes. He sighted down the length of the bow, trying to keep his aim as steady as possible while riding a giant fish-man. Unfortunately, as he launched the sparking arrow, he knew immediately that his aim had been poor.  Instead of striking the glowing node, the arrow hit the Divine Beast’s side with a burst of electric energy. Though Ruta seemed to shudder slightly, and it trumpeted again, the arrow did nothing to stop the onslaught of water and ice.

“That’s okay!” Sidon turned, swimming past the Divine Beast’s front to its other side. “Try again!”

Link drew another arrow, again feeling the shock in his arm. Sidon flinched beneath him. Their maneuver around the Divine Beast had briefly slowed its defenses, as it now had to create additional ice spikes on its opposite side. This gave them a small window during which Sidon slowed his pace some, allowing Link to take better aim.

This arrow streaked through the air, sparking with yellow lightning, and struck home. It hit the red node with a blast of lightning. The entire Divine Beast shuddered as electricity coursed around the light, causing it to flicker, and then fade completely. Link watched with excitement as the water spraying out of the trunk halted as well.

“That’s it, Link!” Sidon called. “Hurry, try to hit the other—”

His voice was suddenly cut off as he was forced to make a sharp turn, nearly unseating Link in the process. A massive wall of ice had suddenly formed with a sharp crack directly in front of them. As they turned away from the Divine Beast, swimming alongside the ice wall, Link heard several ice spikes splash into the water right behind them.

“It’s trying to box us in!” Sidon said, his voice suddenly tight. He was right. The wall of ice formed a curve ahead, forcing Sidon to turn back the way they’d come. As Link looked around, he saw that the ice was being created far faster than Sidon could swim. It was forming a circle around them, trapping them within. Sidon could, perhaps, jump it on his own, or even swim under it, if it did not extend all the way down, but with Link on his back…

“Hold on,” Link said, slinging the bow over his shoulder. “Swim towards the ice!” Going off of a hunch, he pulled the Sheikah Slate off of his belt. Sidon did as he suggested, swimming towards the ice, though at a slower pace now. He looked back at Link uncertainly.

Link ignored him for the moment and pressed the Cryonis rune icon, lifting the Sheikah Slate as the screen turned translucent, highlighting all of the water with bright blue light. He found the ice wall in his view screen, which was highlighted red. He pressed his finger to the Cryonis rune again. A section of the ice wall splintered, crumbling and falling into the lake.

“How—” Sidon said with amazement as they burst free of the Divine Beast’s trap. Link ignored his query, however, as he put the Sheikah Slate away again and drew his bow. They were further than he’d have liked, but he nocked an arrow anyway. Beneath him, Sidon grunted in pain.

“Sidon!” Link said, looking down at his companion. He noticed then that Sidon’s skin, normally a deep red, had grown paler.

“I’m fine!” Sidon looked back at Link, his expression grim. “Just keep going.”

Seeing no other way, Link did as Sidon said, drawing the arrow to his cheek. He waited until just the right moment before releasing the arrow. It sailed through the air, striking high on the red node, which started sparking immediately. The Divine Beast trumpeted again, and Link thought it sounded more desperate now somehow. Overhead, the rain had begun to lessen.

“It’s working!” Sidon yelled as he began to loop around the backside of Ruta. “Keep going, I can handle it!”

Link didn’t draw another arrow, though, keeping an eye out for the next counter attack. It did not immediately come, however, which confused Link. Had the second node shut down its ability to defend itself? The Divine Beast launched no ice spikes, nor did it put up another wall to entrap them.

Finally, Link began to draw another arrow when he heard a splash behind them, barely audible over Sidon’s own splashing. He looked back and yelled out in surprise at what he saw, a mere arm’s length behind Sidon’s feet. It was a giant ball of ice, rolling through the water at a blistering pace. The ball was covered with vicious-looking spikes, making it look like the giant head of a Morningstar.

“Behind you!” Link cried. Sidon reacted without looking, turning to the side just in time. The spiked ice ball rolled past in the water, but Link didn’t have time to breathe a sigh of relief. He watched in horror as the spiked ball turned in the water, righting itself, and pursuing them once again. It gained rapidly.

Link drew another arrow, ignoring Sidon’s reaction, and launched the arrow at the ball of ice. It had the desired effect, causing the spike ball to crack and crumble into the water with a splash. However, to Link’s dismay, it was not alone. Another spiked ball followed right behind it, churning through the waters. The pieces of ice leftover from the previous attack did not even slow it.

He stowed the bow again, pulling out his Sheikah Slate. Quickly navigating back to the Cryonis rune, he highlighted the ball and destroyed it right before it overtook them. Relieved, Link looked back towards the Divine Beast.

“There’s more coming,” Sidon said warningly. There was no need—Link had already seen them. Three more spiked balls of ice directly in their path to the Divine Beast and crossing the distance rapidly.

“Aim for the center and speed up!” Link said, holding the Slate up to highlight the center sphere. The three spiked balls raced across the water towards them, forming a wall of spikes that would likely grind them down, if Link timed this wrong. Too late and the ice wouldn’t break apart in time, but too early and the other two could close the gap before they got through.

“Link?”

“Keep going!”

The rolling spikes loomed, filling the screen of the Sheikah Slate.

“Link!”

Now! Link pressed the Cryonis icon and the center spiked ball shattered, crumbling into the water. The two outer spheres immediately began to close the gap, but Sidon darted through the opening. Link felt floating pieces of ice bounce off of his greaves. Behind them, the two spiked balls crashed into each other with a sharp cracking noise.

Link immediately drew his bow and arrow, taking aim, and launching another shock arrow at the third node. The reaction in the Divine Beast as the arrow found its target was immediate. The entire construct shuddered and the red lights that covered its body flickered before steadying. They were definitely dimmer now, though.

“One more!” Sidon said through gritted teeth. Link pulled another arrow from his quiver, readying himself to take aim.

The water in front of them became a sheet of ice.

“Hold on!” Sidon cried as he banked away. It was too late, however, and Link lost his grip, flying off of the Zora’s back and onto the ice. He rolled, losing his grip on the silver bow, which slid away from him.

“Watch out!”

Sidon’s warning saved him. He rolled just as an ice spike slammed down into the sheet of ice, nearly impaling him. He leaped to his feet, grateful to see that the Zora boots he wore did grip the ice slightly better than his normal boots would have. He broke into an unsteady sprint, barely dodging out of the way of another spike.

As he ran towards the fallen silver bow, he did a quick inventory. He still had the quiver attached to his hip. That was the most important thing. The Sheikah Slate was still attached as well on the opposite hip. Good.

He glanced towards Ruta, eyes widening as he saw several more spikes forming. It attacked with a renewed ferocity, ignoring Sidon completely now and focusing everything on Link. He felt a spike glance off of his armor and winced, stumbling. Another spike passed by just in front of him.

Link dropped into a slide, fingers reaching and grasping the silver bow. Another two spikes sailed just overhead. He leaped just as the ice beneath him ran out. As he sailed through the air, he pulled a shock arrow from its quiver.

Time seemed to slow.

The only sound that Link could hear was his own breathing and the creak of the bow as he drew the arrow to his cheek. He took aim. The arrow sparked to life.

He released the arrow and crashed down into the water.

The electrified arrow flew through the air and struck the final glowing red node in its center. The Divine Beast trumpeted once more as the red lights all over its body flickered rapidly and then died. Its trunk, limp, crashed down to the water. The ice that it created began to crack and break apart.

Once the ice had broken apart enough, Sidon swam through the gap to rejoin Link, who was treading water and watching Ruta’s shutdown. Overhead, the rain stopped. Link looked up and saw the clouds, which had formed a strange swirling pattern, begin to break apart, letting shafts of sunlight stream down. It was nearly blinding after being in the gloom of rain for the last several days.

“We did it,” Sidon said, his voice in awe. He looked at Link, eyes widening, his lips splitting into a grin. “Link, we did it! The rain has stopped! This is wonderful!”

Link breathed a sigh of relief, allowing himself a smile. Suddenly, however, the Divine Beast lurched back to life. Link’s heart sank as he watched the red lights flicker back on. Its legs extended further, slowly lifting its body out of the water of the lake. He saw the expression on Sidon’s face and imagined that it mirrored his own.

It wasn’t enough. The rain had been stopped, but he had not yet saved the Divine Beast. He had not yet removed Ganon’s influence—the thing that had killed Mipha. No, for that…

“Sidon, I need to get inside of it,” he said, gritting his teeth. Sidon looked over at him, eyes meeting his, and nodded.

“I know where the entrance is.” Link climbed onto Sidon’s back, and the prince took off again, circling around the Divine Beast. Link kept watch, making sure that the Divine Beast’s defenses wouldn’t come back online.

As they swam, Sidon spoke softly. “I’ve never been inside. None of us have. Not since my sister…” His eyes were locked on Ruta. Link could not see his face, but he could hear longing in his voice. “It never allowed us to get this close, you see. It was never that aggressive, but it would still protect itself. We just learned to give it a wide berth.”

“How do you know where the entrance is?” Link asked, curious. He hadn’t seen any sign of an entrance as they were swimming around it earlier, but Sidon had spoken of the schematics before.

“I remember watching my sister disappear inside of it.”

Silence fell between them for a time before, finally, Sidon spoke again. “Link, I… I cannot stay with you.”

“You need to go to your soldiers,” Link said, guessing what he was going to say.

Sidon looked back at him. “Yes. I do. If they still fight the lizalfos, my place will be by their side.” He looked back towards the Divine Beast. He was swimming towards a platform extending from its side that sat just above the water. Link hadn’t seen it before but supposed that it might have been submerged before its body had been lifted out of the water. “I wish I could accompany you. For my sister. But I must obey my duty, as you must obey yours.”

Link remained silent. He could tell that this was a hard decision for him to make. Most likely, he had hoped that he could enter the Divine Beast with Link. He would have, if it wasn’t for the lizalfo attack.

Sidon swam up to the platform, and Link climbed onto it. He checked his gear one last time, verifying that he still had everything that he needed. When he was satisfied, he looked down to Sidon, who was smiling up at him.

“Best of luck,” Sidon said, his voice more jovial than it was a moment ago. “Show the enemy no fear, Link. Tonight, we will celebrate in Zora’s Domain as victors and saviors of the land!”

“I’m still not going to eat any raw trout tonight,” Link said, smiling.

Sidon laughed and began to swim backwards. “I will make sure to have a fire made so you can cook your own, then!” He lifted a hand in farewell. “Finish the job, Link! I believe in you!”

Sidon turned and began swimming away at a rapid pace, a red streak in the water. Link watched him go. Finally, once he was certain that Sidon made it to the side of the lake, he turned to face the entrance of the Divine Beast.

To his surprise, Mipha stood in the entrance, looking at him with a warm smile, her hands clasped before her. “Hello, Link.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen

“I will ride for the desert immediately.” Urbosa set her jaw, showing little of the worry that she felt. She remained steady. Link knew that she had to be. For Zelda.

“Yes, ride well, Urbosa.” Zelda’s face betrayed her worry and fear. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They weren’t ready. They all knew it.

Revali had been the first to depart. He reported Calamity Ganon’s return, providing them with what little details he could, and then immediately flew for Rito Village. Daruk had been right behind him, placing a hand on both Link and Zelda’s shoulders. He’d tried to say something comforting—anything to assure them. Ultimately, he’d told them that he would be there right beside them, before dropping to the ground and rolling down the path towards Death Mountain.

Urbosa hugged Zelda, kissing the top of her head. “Be strong, Little Bird.” She released her and mounted her stallion. “Keep her safe, Link!” She turned her horse, galloping west on the Lanayru Road towards Kakariko Village. She had the longest distance to travel and would be the last one to join the fight against Ganon. It would take days for her to reach the desert, even if she swapped horses along the way.

Then only Mipha remained. She would travel through the Lanayru River, using a series of over and underground waterways to reach the Zora River. Though the last to leave, she would reach her Divine Beast first.

She looked at Zelda, her hands clasped. “I know that this seems hopeless.” Mipha stepped forward and took Zelda’s hands in her own. “But we will find a way through this. I believe in you both.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said, her voice quiet.

“Princess.” At this, Zelda looked up at Mipha, meeting her eyes. “This is not the end.”

Zelda nodded silently, giving her a tight smile. Mipha squeezed Zelda’s hands tightly before releasing them and turning to Link. For a long time, she merely met Link’s eyes, her eyes darting between each of Link’s. She opened her mouth but then shut it.

For his part, he didn’t know what he could say to the woman that had been one of his closest friends. He’d known her for such a long time, yet at that moment, it felt as though it hadn’t been nearly long enough. What would happen to them?

Finally, she cleared her throat and moved forward, embracing Link. He returned her embrace, pulling her against him. Though he was not much taller than she was, she seemed small in his arms. Too small.

“Be safe, Link,” she said. “I will be at the castle as soon as I can. Keep the princess safe, but…” Mipha hesitated, pulling back enough for her to look up and meet Link’s eyes again. “I will not be able to heal you while I’m piloting Ruta. Do not take any unnecessary risks. Please.”

“I’ll try.” His voice was a whisper. He pulled back from her, and she allowed him, though looking reluctant. “Be careful.”

“I do not think I am the one in the most danger.” Again, she looked as though there was something else she wanted to say, but she glanced at Zelda and sighed. Her gaze fell back on Link. “Be strong, my friend.”

Mipha reached up, gently touching his cheek with her palm. Her touch was cool, as always, and he appreciated the gesture. She stepped back, looking to each of them one more time, before turning. She leaped into the air, spreading her arms, and dove into the Lanayru River.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Mipha.” Link’s knees nearly buckled under the combined weight of the memory that flashed through his mind and the sight of her standing there, in the entrance to the Divine Beast Vah Ruta.

Mipha remained silent, allowing him to compose himself, her expression still as warm as before. Still as warm as the last time he’d seen her, because he knew, deep down, that the memory he had just witnessed had been their final good-bye.

She looked just like she had one hundred years in the past. Small and petite—she was shorter than Link, unlike most of the other Zora he had met. She had the same red coloring along most of her body that Sidon had, with the exception of her face and the front of her torso. The fish-like snout just above her golden eyes and red lips was less pronounced than her brother’s and lacked the wing-like protuberances. Her fins curved slightly, framing her face. Silver jewelry adorned her head, throat, and neckline, ornamented in multiple tear-shaped sapphires. A blue sash, crafted with the same color and materials as Link’s Champions tunic, stretched from her left shoulder to right hip.

Link steadied himself, stepping forward slowly, taking in her appearance. She looked just the same as before, except…

His heart sank. Mipha, like King Rhoam, glowed with a faint, ethereal green light. She was not alive but was, instead, a spirit.

“Yes,” Mipha said, reading his expression. She met his eyes, her smile growing somber. “Ganon’s trap was… cleverer than any of us could have expected, wasn’t it? We all had such hopes…”

Everything came crashing down on him in that moment—the destruction of Hyrule, his lack of memories, the small remnant of survivors, her death and the loss that the Zora people suffered for it. His failure. His shame. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I had been stronger, if I had been more prepared—”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, cutting him off with a single word: “Link.”

He stopped talking, pressing his mouth closed.

“Link, you cannot blame yourself for this.” She took a hesitant step forward, reaching out and placing an ethereal hand on his arm. He could feel her touch, but only faintly. “None of us were prepared for the lengths Ganon took to achieve its victory.

“We all fought the best we could… We thought the Divine Beasts would save us, yet it turned them, and every other tool at our disposal, against us. As skilled as you were, you could not fight it and an army of Guardians.”

Link looked down. He wished he could take comfort in her words. Perhaps he could have if he truly remembered more than a few select memories of her. Bitterness at his state welled up within him, and he clenched his left hand into a tight fist.

“I can’t remember. I can’t remember what happened when I fought it, the Guardians, Princess Zelda—anything.” Strangely, it hurt much more to admit this to Mipha than it had to anyone else.

“You… do not remember?”

“The Shrine of Resurrection—it took my memories,” he said. “I’ve remembered some since then. I remember walking up Ploymus Mountain with you and...” The end. He remembered their last moments together.

“Oh, Link, that—that is awful. I am so sorry,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. She moved forward, wrapping her arms around him.

For a moment, she felt solid—he could feel the texture of her scaled arms and her cheek on his shoulder. Then it was gone. She pulled away and, to his shock, she appeared even fainter now than before. He could see through her now, as though that simple act had taken much out of her.

“But you are beginning to remember?” she asked.

He forced himself to meet her eyes. “I’ve remembered a little. Quick flashes of events.”

“Good.” Mipha gave him a small smile. “I am sure they will. You were always good at accomplishing whatever you set out to accomplish.”

“I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

“Things in life worth pursuing rarely are.”

He looked at her, seeing her expression. Sadness. Pity.

“You are wearing my armor,” she said, eyes growing wide with recognition. She seemed to fight with herself for a moment. “It fits you well. Better than I could have hoped.”

“It’s perfect. And I’m honored. Truly.”

“Did—did they tell you what the purpose of the armor was?” Her voice had risen in pitch, and she broke eye contact, gazing down towards their feet.

“I—yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Mipha…”

She quickly shook her head, her fins waving. “No, it is all right. It is… a little silly of me, isn’t it? Being embarrassed now. I have been dead for one hundred years, after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, for the second time. “I just don’t—my memories—”

“No, please,” she said, finally meeting his eyes again. “It is enough just to see you alive again. That you are here, wearing my armor—it means more to me than I could ever adequately express.”

Link searched her eyes. What could he say to her now? He still wasn’t sure how he had felt for her one hundred years ago, though he had begun to suspect that their relationship had never progressed beyond a close kinship. They had certainly been close, but the more he remembered, the more he felt a connection to her that was akin to siblings, rather than lovers. But he simply did not know.

“Thank you,” he said after an extended pause. It wasn’t enough, but it was all he knew to say at that moment. “For this and for everything else that you’ve done for me.”

Mipha slowly approached the edge of the platform, sitting down upon it and looking out at the lake. “The rain stopped,” she said. “That is good—I imagine that the water level was getting high enough to risk damaging one of the dams.”

He sat down beside her, expression growing concerned. She still seemed fainter than before. “Sidon and I—”

She gasped and looked at him with widening eyes. “That was Sidon?”

“I—yes,” he said, fumbling. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” Her voice grew quiet. “I haven’t been able to leave Ruta since I… He’s grown so much.”

Hesitantly, Link reached out a hand, trying to place it on her shoulder, but he found nothing there, his fingers passing right through. He quickly withdrew his hand. She glanced at him and then away again, gazing out towards the unseen Zora’s Domain.

“He was only a child when Ganon awoke,” Mipha explained. “I still remember training him how to swim up waterfalls. I told Princess Zelda that I had to make sure he was ready, in case something happened to me.”

“Then I think you trained him well,” Link said, thinking about how Sidon had shown his ability to swim up waterfalls the other day. He had made it look effortless. “He’s a powerful warrior, too. He and I killed the lynel on Ploymus Mountain yesterday.”

She looked at him, confused. “There was another one?” Link nodded. “And you went with him? That… is good. Fitting.”

Silence fell between them for a time longer before she abruptly asked about her father. He told her all that he could—about King Dorephan’s welcome and his reluctance to let Sidon attack the lynel, about finding old friends in Bazz and the others, and about the vehemence shown to Link by several of the elders. Somewhere along the way, he began to talk about his experiences since waking, the confusion he felt and the shame. At one point, he stopped himself, feeling selfish. After everything she had gone through, Mipha didn’t deserve to hear all of Link’s problems. But she encouraged him to continue, looking at him with genuine concern. So he did.

It was cathartic for Link, speaking of the trials he had faced so far, and the pressure he felt to continue. Before he even realized what he was saying, he even told her that he didn’t know how he was supposed to succeed at the tasks placed before him—that he was concerned that he would just fail again.

When he finished, Mipha looked at him with a strange mix of sadness and what he thought might have been pride. “It is strange—before, when you pulled the Master Sword and became the Princess’ knight, you… Well, you stopped speaking to people. I think you may have opened up to her near the end, but I was unable to get you to speak to me about your struggles. It seemed to me that you were holding much back.”

Link looked at her, feeling both drained and strangely reinvigorated by the confessions he’d made. “Then I was an idiot.”

Mipha smiled and shook her head. “No… But you could be blind.” Her expression turned apologetic, but she continued on. “I do not know if you saw that we were all under the same kind of pressure that you were.”

“It still sounds like I was an idiot,” he said, smiling.

Mipha met his smile. “From time to time.”

Silence settled around them. Below, waves lapped at Ruta’s legs, creating a soothing sound. A flock of birds flew overhead. The sun shone down on them, bright and unhindered by rain or clouds.

Ruta shuddered slightly, and Link looked back towards the entrance. It was shadowy inside. He looked at Mipha, hesitant to break the comfortable silence between them. She looked content. Her legs, slightly translucent and crossed at the ankles, dangled in the water. When she would occasionally move them, they caused very slight ripples.

Finally, he spoke. “Mipha… what happened to you? How did you die?”

She sighed softly, nodding. She pushed herself up from her seated position, and Link followed suit. Her gaze fell upon the dark entrance. “Ganon… It laid a trap for me and, presumably, the other Champions. When I boarded the Divine Beasts, there was something awaiting me. I tried to fight it, but it was so strong.

“After it killed me, it…” She pursed her lips, frowning up at the Divine Beast. “It went to the castle to wait. I believe that it could have attacked the towns, but I think Ganon wanted to send a message. Or, perhaps, he could not control its weapons for some reason. I am not sure.”

“The Guardians attacked,” Link said, closing his hand into a fist. “It didn’t need the Divine Beasts.”

Mipha’s gaze moved from the doorway to Link. “Yes.” She paused, then took a step forward, standing in the entrance. She turned so she still faced him. “Link, I am trapped here. Ruta is trapped as well. The blight left here by Ganon taints this place, distorts it. It is a prison.”

Free the Divine Beasts from Ganon’s malice. This was what Impa said. Link hadn’t been sure what she had meant, and in all likelihood, she hadn’t either. He grimaced, stepping closer to Mipha. He looked down and met her eyes. “You’re trapped here?”

Mipha nodded. “I have not been able to leave Ruta for the past one hundred years. It has just been me and… it.” He saw something of the horror she had experienced reflected on her face, and he felt his heart break. She hadn’t deserved this. None of them had.

Link attached his shield to his arm and then drew his sword, eyes hardening. “And destroying it will free you and the Divine Beast?”

“I believe so, yes.” Mipha paused. “Link, I think that I can still help you with Ganon. Ruta and I have a… connection. I can still feel her, ever so faintly. Perhaps, if I am not being blocked, I may still be able to control her somehow.”

Ever since his awakening, Link had lamented the position he found himself in. His lost memories, his failures, his burden—he had regretted all of it. He had wanted out. But gazing upon Mipha in that moment, his resolve hardened. No more failures. He would shoulder this burden.

He nodded and stepped past the ghostly form of Mipha, into the heart of Divine Beast Vah Ruta.

The moment Link stepped over the threshold, he knew immediately that something was very wrong. The air felt wrong. Heavy. Oily. It smelled sour and stung his nostrils. It made his body felt strange. Weak. Overextended. It was as if, in that moment, every ache, every pain, every sore muscle from his journeys, were magnified and brought to the forefront of his mind.

Somewhere, in the shadowy recesses of his forgotten memories, he recognized this feeling. Ganon.

A light sweat broke out on his forehead as he gazed around at the large, open chamber. The inner mechanics of the Divine Beast were shockingly complex and unfamiliar. Massive, interlocking gears were positioned along the walls, though none were moving now. There were several pools of water inlayed into the ground, with a network of metal pipes of various sizes that rose out of them, all angling towards the front of the Divine Beast. In two of the largest pools, there was a pair of massive water wheels, which had also stopped moving, though water still dripped lazily off of the paddles. Walkways with metal grates crisscrossed all around the massive chamber.

The ground was mostly stone, but large swaths of it was covered a strange deep purple and black substance that bubbled and oozed. The sight of it unsettled him. Repulsed him. The hair all along his arms stood on end, and a shiver ran up his neck. He wanted nothing to do with it.

Mipha stepped up next to him, her eyes upon the substance, expression grim. “Try not to touch it. It is somehow related to the thing that took over Ruta.”

Link nodded. “Where is it?” he asked, looking for any sign of the creature that had killed her. The massive chamber was eerily silent, save for the occasional drips of water from the water wheels’ paddles, which landed in the pools of water below. He couldn’t even hear the lapping waves that he’d heard so well outside a moment ago.

“Link, are you sure about this?” Mipha’s voice betrayed her anxiety, and his gaze fell to her. “It is… strong. It killed me. If something happens to you, I—”

“It will be all right,” he said, his voice soft, but firm.

She met his eyes, and he saw the fear there. Not fear for herself or, likely, even Hyrule, but for his wellbeing. He wished that he could reassure her more; if he was honest with himself, he didn’t feel all that confident either. But he had to try. For Mipha, who lost her life to this creature. For Sidon, who lost a sister. For the Zora race, who lost a champion. For himself, who lost a dear friend.

“It will be this way,” she finally said, turning and walking towards the rear of the Divine Beast. As she led him through, the air only seemed to grow heavier and the sour smell worse. It was the smell of rot and decay and something else that caused his nostrils to burn. It made his stomach twist with nausea, but he pushed it down.

He followed her through a series of hallways and smaller rooms until, finally, they reached a final hall that led down a small incline before opening into another room. From his vantage, Link could see nothing moving in the room. Mipha met his eyes one last time, and he nodded. She only hesitated another moment before beginning down towards the room.

The room was large and cavernous, with rounded walls, covered in Sheikah designs. The far wall had several floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lake outside. Directly in front of the windows sat some kind of device. It looked like a closed flower with petals that had not yet bloomed. It shone with an orange light that pulsed slightly. Before it was some kind of waist-high panel, with a flat surface that contained more glowing orange lights, but nothing else that Link could see. The floor was covered with a couple of inches of cool water.

Whatever had killed Mipha was nowhere to be seen.

“Mipha?” he asked, voice a whisper.

“It’s here.” She pointed at the device in the center of the room.

At first, he saw nothing new. But then he began to see some kind of red-purple haze rising from around the orange device. It began to circle lazily around it, growing thicker and more obscuring as it did so. It took only a few moments before he recognized it as the same strange mist that had surrounded the castle when Ganon was about to emerge.

The mist began to gather in front of the device, growing thicker and obscuring. As it did so, it looked more and more like the strange oozing substance that they’d seen on the floor. In fact, after another few moments, he was certain that they were the same. It no longer looked like mist at all, having taken on a much more solid form in the shape of a floating sphere.

“Be careful, Link,” Mipha said.

The sphere of purple ooze began to take on a different shape. It grew long and narrow before several appendages began to extend from places along its length. A pair of stunted legs grew, floating above the ground and terminating in rounded stumps. A pair of arms grew, one thin and the other easily twice as long and thick. The head began to take shape as well, narrow and pointed. Red hair, easily as thick as the lynel’s mane, sprouted from the back of its head, falling all the way down its back. It towered over him, taller than he was, even without its ability to float in the air. It was not done yet, however.

As he watched, armor that seemed to be made of the same stone that was used in Vah Ruta’s construction appeared. Its stunted legs, waist, and chest were all partially covered in the armor. The long arm was fully encased in the same armor from the elbow down. Its head was, likewise, encased in armor, though this extended out to either side of its head in a pair of flattened horns.

Link looked in horror as a round, blue eye appeared in the center of its head. A Guardian’s eye. He saw a flash of memory—a blue eye pulsing as it took aim at him—but he pushed it away as quickly as it appeared. He did not have time for distractions right now. That blue eye focused on him and something about the creature’s posture changed. It leaned forward in a menacing way, and its longer arm extended. There was a flash of light as a glowing blue spear extended from the hand there, easily three times as long as Link was tall. It shone just like the Guardian sword at his waist did.

The creature suddenly reared back, throwing both of its arms out and its head back, and released a horrible shriek that made the walls tremble. Link’s instincts screamed at him to move, and he did, leaping to the side. A moment later, the creature thrust its spear forward. The incredibly long spear crossed the distance between them in an eye blink, stabbing thin air where he had just been.

He broke into a sprint, his feet kicking up a spray of water. The massive spear put him at a huge disadvantage at range, he hoped it would be too unwieldy to use against an opponent up close.

Unfortunately for him, he misjudged just how high off the ground the creature floated. It hovered in the air several feet off the ground, meaning that Link could not attack with the kind of coordination and ferocity that he would have preferred. He swung anyway, his sword hitting the armor on the creature’s legs. The sword only bounced off, harmless. The creature’s counter, however, was not.

It swung its free hand—shorter than the other and ending in vicious looking claws—and caught him in the side. He felt a sudden stabbing pain in his side as his feet lifted off of the ground. He flew back and hit the water in a heap, rolling to keep his momentum and prevent being run through with the spear.

He heard Mipha’s voice, crying his name from a distance, but he ignored it. He jumped to his feet, taking several more steps back to try to keep out of range of the spear. Where he had been lying, he saw a cloud of red in the water. His blood.

Grimacing, he reached down to his side, where the creature had struck him. His hand came away red. Its claws had pierced his Zora armor like it was nothing. The wound didn’t hurt—adrenaline kept most of the pain at bay for the time being—and he tried to force any concerns over the wound away. There would be plenty of time to assess the damage done to his body once the fight was over. Or he would be dead, and individual injuries would no longer matter, anyway.

The creature lunged at Link again, and he, too disoriented to dodge, thrust his shield out. The spear glanced off the shield emblazoned with the Sheikah eye, and mercifully, the shield held. The spear thrust past him, crackling with the strange Guardian energy, and he stepped back, weighing his options. The creature floated off of the ground, making it difficult to strike with any damage, and its reach would spell Link’s doom, if he wasn’t careful. To make matters worse, his sword was ineffective against anything he could reach.

He had more than one sword, however.

Thrusting his silver sword back in its scabbard, Link pulled the Guardian sword from its place on his waist, igniting it with a flash of blue light. The creature made a hissing sound and thrust its spear once again at Link. He sidestepped it and broke into another run. The creature was ready for him this time, raising its shorter right hand, claws extended, ready to sweep him away like before. As it did, however, Link thrust his Guardian sword out, impaling the creature’s palm on the beam of blue energy.

The creature shrieked, backing away. Purple mist burst from the hand like spraying blood, and the creature raised the hand well out of Link’s range. He could hurt it. That was good. The next question was whether or not he could actually kill it.

It swung the spear at him in a wide arc, and he threw himself forward onto his belly in the water. He heard the hum of the spear as it passed overhead and leaped back to his feet, running towards the creature again.

A wall of ice suddenly burst out of the water in front of him, and Link stumbled, hitting the ice with his shoulder. Of course it had the ability to use Cryonis.

“Link, watch out!” Mipha’s voice, shrill and terrified.

The ice wall shattered as the creature thrust its spear through it. He was saved by blind luck. As the spear pierced the ice, it struck his shield, knocking him onto his back in the water. The spear continued on overhead before it twisted onto its side, the impossibly sharp edge pointed down towards Link. Eyes widening, he rolled to the side, just as the spear’s edge crashed down to the ground where he’d been like a butcher’s knife.

He pushed himself up, kicking up another splash of water as he attempted to round the ice wall again, trying to get within the creature’s guard. The ice extended to follow him, forming a barrier that would cost Link precious seconds to try to scale.

Fine, he thought, scowling, and turned, running back enough to give himself enough space. He placed the Guardian sword back in its spot at his waist and grabbed his bow. Spinning around, he took aim with a shock arrow and launched it at the creature. The arrow struck home, dead center of its chest. It shrieked, throwing its arms wide as electricity coursed through its body.

The ice wall shattered and its spear deactivated. He broke into a sprint, slinging the bow over his shoulder and pulling the Guardian sword back out again. He activated it and yelled a battle cry as leaped off a chunk of remaining ice, slashing the sword vertically down the creature’s chest.

The creature shrieked again, backing away quickly as purple mist sprayed out of its chest. Link hit the ground badly and his ankle buckled underneath him, sending him crashing to the water. He was pretty sure it was sprained, if not worse.

In front of him, the creature, chest still leaking dark mist, thrust its larger arm out again, and its spear reappeared with a flash of blue light. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet, but he knew immediately that he was in trouble. His ankle sent stabs of pain up his leg and would not hold his weight. Worse, he could feel his other wounds now, too. It felt as though his bleeding side was on fire.

The creature, eye pulsing with fierce intensity, stabbed out with the spear, forcing Link to stumble to the side. His ankle gave out, and he crashed back to the water. He, again, forced himself to his feet, gritting his teeth. The creature had noticed his incapacitation, and it approached slowly. He heard a noise originate from it. It sounded like a series of short grunts.

It dawned on him a moment later that the creature was chuckling. It was laughing at him. It had him, and it wanted to gloat in its apparent victory.

It thrust the spear again, and he tried again to dodge out of the way. This time, he was too slow. It cut across his sword arm, leaving a deep gash and causing him to drop his sword, which clattered to the pool of water and deactivated with a hiss. Drops of red slipped from his limp fingers.

The creature stopped, towering over him, and drew its arm back again, preparing to thrust. Hurriedly, Link pulled the bow from around his body, hoping to get off another shock arrow, but his hand wasn’t working right. He was having trouble gripping an arrow shaft. He stumbled back, and then his ankle gave out. He cried out and fell to the water, the bow landing in the water next to him.

Ganon’s creation thrust the massive Guardian spear down into Link’s chest.

“No!” Mipha’s shrill cry.

He could barely hear it. He’d felt the sudden, blinding pain, but then it was followed by cold numbness that quickly spread throughout his body. His arms buckled, and he collapsed into the water, face just barely over its surface.

The creature was there, standing over him, having dismissed its spear. It chortled in that low, inhuman way, knowing that it had won. It killed Link as it had killed Mipha so many years ago. But she was there, too, suddenly vibrant and visible, barely translucent at all, though she still had the green halo of light that outlined her body.

Link smiled painfully at her. He could no longer move his limbs. He was barely even aware of his own body anymore. He was already fading. “I’m… sorry, Mipha.”

Mipha knelt beside him, her face close to his. Her expression shifted from that of anguish to a fierce determination. She looked at her hands and then met his eyes. Her lips formed words that he could no longer hear. The darkness encroached on his vision. She placed her hands to his chest. They had begun to glow with a blue-white light.

He knew that light.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The sun had begun to set, leaving the partially cloudy sky a mix of blue, purple, and orange. The summer warmth remained, however. The breeze that Link felt, while sitting with Mipha atop Ruta’s long trunk, felt pleasant as it blew through his hair. It was a peaceful end to an otherwise eventful day.

Link glanced at his companion for the day. She had requested his presence at Zora’s Domain, and he, on the rare occasion that he was free from his normal duties, obliged. It had been a while since he’d traveled on his own, and besides, he’d heard that there was a group of lizalfos that had been attacking travelers along the Zora River.

He had dealt with the lizalfos easily enough, though he had sustained a trio of shallow cuts on his right forearm, courtesy of one such lizalfo that had managed to get past his shield. It was just his luck that, on the one day he didn’t wear his bracers, he fought an enemy that tried to pull his shield out of his hand.

Shortly thereafter, he came across a Zora that had been sent to find him, who gave him a ride up the river, cutting his travel time by at least a full day. Mipha had been eager to see him, it would seem, which initially caused Link some concern. Was something wrong? But no. Outside of the lizalfos, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Eventually, they found themselves together on Ruta’s trunk. Mipha easily commanded the Divine Beast to lift them into the air, high enough that they could see miles around them. Mount Lanayru stood sentinel to the south while, in the far distance, Link could see Hyrule Castle, standing tall and proud.

He wondered what Zelda was doing right now. Probably working on some new issue with controlling the Guardians. Or, perhaps, she was dressed in her white ceremonial robes, praying to the goddess once again.

“Now let me see that arm.” Mipha’s voice drew his attention back to her. He smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“How did you know?”

Mipha gave him a smile, and he pulled his sleeve back. She began to unwrap the dressing from his arm with deft hands. “I always know.”

The dressing’s white outer layers gave way to pink, red, and then red-brown as she unwrapped it. When it was exposed to the cool breeze, his bare arm stung slightly. Mipha looked over it with a critical eye.

“The lizalfos?” she said, looking up at his face. He nodded in reply. She sighed softly, shaking her head. “You know, I am sure my father’s soldiers could have handled the incursion. He had already sent out parties to try to find them.”

“I found them first,” Link said. She gave him a look, and unable to help himself, he smiled faintly.

“You went looking for them.”

She wrapped her small fingers around Link’s bare elbow, holding his injured arm aloft, and her other hand hovered in the air just above his forearm. It began to glow with a blue-white light.

They both sat in silence for a moment as Mipha prepared her healing magic. Finally, she spoke again, her tone softer now. “I was thinking that this reminds me of the time we first met.”

“How so?” Link didn’t remember their meeting very well. He had only been four years old at the time. He was fairly certain that she looked much as she did now, though.

“Well, you were such a reckless child, always getting yourself hurt at every turn.” She met his eyes, smiling warmly. “Not so different than you are now, I suppose.”

He snorted. “I prefer the term courageous.”

“Yes, you dreamed of being a courageous knight, even then… Just like your father.” She fell silent, looking away from him and towards the distant castle. She seemed to be considering something.

“I would heal you every time,” she said, her voice softer. “Just as I am doing right now.”

Link’s arm felt as if it had been lowered into a pool of cool water. The pain from his wounds began to fade as the ripped skin began to knit itself back together. He watched, fascinated.

Link looked up from his healing arm to meet Mipha’s eyes. She looked right at him, barely even paying attention to her own healing magic. “Isn’t it funny how, being a Hylian, you’ve grown up so much faster than I did. When I met you, you were just a child, but now we are both adults, in similar stages of life.” Her eyes never left his, and he felt frozen in place, unwilling to break that gaze.

He’d never truly thought of it before, but it was true. Though he’d known Mipha almost his entire life, his relationship with her had subtly changed as he grew older. She had, once, been like an older sister to him, always watching over him when he played with Bazz, Gaddison, and Rivan. As he’d grown older, however, he soon outpaced his old friends in responsibility and maturity. While he maintained a friendship with them, even to this day, he had, at some point, become a teacher and mentor to them. Meanwhile, he now looked to Mipha as a peer, and one of his closest friends.

“I was always willing to heal your wounds, even back then.” She finally broke the eye contact, looking back down at his arm demurely. He did the same, watching as the last of the cuts—now little more than scratches—faded completely. Some dry blood still remained on his forearm, but the injuries that caused the blood had been healed without even a scar.

She drew her healing hand back, though the hand holding his arm lingered for another few seconds before releasing him. She placed both of her hands back in her lap, her gaze growing distant again. He inspected his arm, amazed as always at her abilities, but looked back at her when she spoke next.

“So if this Calamity Ganon does, in fact, return, what can we really do?” Her eyes seemed to be focused on the distant castle.

“What do you mean?” He wondered if she was thinking about Zelda’s continued struggle to awaken her sealing powers. If someone else had questioned it, he might have grown offended, but he knew there was no judgment in Mipha’s words or tone.

“We just don’t seem to know much about what we will be up against.” She shook her head, looking down at her hands. They were small. Delicate. But he knew that she was as ready to fight as he was. She had a strong warrior spirit, though he wondered, at times, if she even knew it.

“But know this, Link,” she said, clasping her hands together. She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes again. “No matter how difficult this battle might get, if you—if anyone should seek to do you harm, then I will heal you.”

He thought of all of the times she had done just that. The battles they’d fought together, when he was spent his adolescent summers in Zora’s Domain or as an adult, such as the fight against the lynel.

“No matter when, or how bad the wound, I hope you know—”

“I do,” Link said.

She smiled faintly before continuing. “That I will always protect you.”

Silence fell between them as Link sat, stunned. Protect. As a knight, it was his duty to protect. To protect the kingdom, to protect the princess. To protect Mipha. That she thought of herself having a duty to protect him was both surprising and touching. He felt his face grow warm.

Mipha seemed to be considering something as she looked down at her hands. The silver bangles she wore on her wrists had heart-shaped cutouts. Were those new? He thought that she had worn more ornamentation today than she often did. After a few more moments of silence, she seemed to come to a decision, looking back up at him. She placed her hand on the small bag that she had brought with her today. She hadn’t told him what was in it.

“Once this whole thing is over, maybe things can go back to how they used to be when we were young,” she said. There was a determination in her eyes as she met his. “You know, perhaps we can spend some more time together.”

Link looked into her golden eyes, struck by how the setting sun caused the sapphires on her head and neck to sparkle.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“You will not take him!” Mipha cried as she placed her shining hands to Link’s chest, where the Guardian spear had impaled him.

Where the healing magic in the memory had felt like dipping his arm in a pool of cool water, this felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over his entire body. His back arched, and he gasped sharply, eyes opening wide. For a moment, every pain in his body seemed to flare with life, and then, in the next breath, it was gone. Every pain. Every wound. His back, chest, side, and arm all knit closed. His internal organs became whole. His ankle righted itself, muscle and sinew growing strong again.

He met her eyes, and she appeared as shocked as he was. He doubted that she had ever healed anyone like that before.

Behind Mipha, the creature shrieked in fury, its spear reactivating in its outstretched hand. Link threw himself back onto his feet, his body renewed. When the next spear thrust came, he spun away and then used his foot to hook under the bow and kick it up, into the air. He caught it and pulled a shock arrow from his quiver, looking up at the furious creature. He nocked the arrow, his lips pulled back into a cold grin, and released it. It struck the creature directly in the eye.

The creature roared in agony, shuddering as lightning arced over its face and body. Like a marionette with its strings cut, it collapsed to the ground, twitching from the electricity. Its spear deactivated. Link dropped his bow and grabbed up his fallen sword, reactivating its blue blade. He sprinted towards the creature, yelling his war cry, and thrust the blade past the shock arrow into the prone monster’s eye. The blade sunk all the way to its hilt.

Ganon’s creature reared back, screaming with a new, terrible sound that reverberated off of the walls and caused Link to stumble back, leaving the sword lodged in its eye. It rose back into the air and thrashed, throwing its head back. Its arms shook violently as they reached up to its face, clawing blindly for the source of its agony. The red-purple ooze that made up its body darkened and seemed to grow hard. Brittle. An audible crack echoed off the chamber walls, and its larger arm broke off, falling to the ground with a splash. When it hit the ground, the entire arm, armor and all, shattered into dark violet mist.

The creature trembled violently, drawing its legs and remaining arm in. It curled around them and then it, too, shattered into the mist. Link watched with awe as the mist spun around itself briefly, as it trying to reshape itself again, but then began to dissipate. After a few more seconds, it was gone, and he was left in an empty room.

He watched the mist as it disappeared before, finally, exhaling a long breath. His shoulders slumped and his racing heart began to slow. He turned and saw Mipha standing a few feet away. She looked up at him, and after a moment of stunned silence, she smiled. “You did it.”

“I… You healed me.” The reality of the situation began to set in. He looked down at his armor, which bore the scars of his battle. It was ripped and torn in several places, revealing his unscarred flesh underneath.

Mipha reached out, placing her translucent hand on the torn portion of the armor she made him. The silvery scale still remained, though it hung only by a few threads. “I did not even know that I still could.”

“Thank you.”

Mipha laughed softly and shook her head. “You saved me. You saved Ruta.”

“And you protected me, just like you promised you always would.”

Mipha looked at him in surprise. It took her a moment of indecision before she spoke. “And I always will.” She clasped her hands over her chest, meeting his eyes. Her hands began to glow with her healing light again. After a moment, she reached out and placed her hands against his chest.

A feeling like that of cool water spread from the spot that she touched, flowing through him to the tips of his fingers and toes. He gasped softly at the sensation, which only lasted for a few seconds before fading, except for the palms of his hands. He lifted his hands, surprised to see the soft healing light emanating from them now.

“I’ve given you my healing power.” Mipha’s visage had grown noticeably more translucent. Her voice was softer as well. “I… do not believe I will be able to accompany you. My place will still be here, with Ruta.”

“I don’t understand,” Link said, frowning. “You said you were trapped. I thought that I was freeing you.” The light faded from his palms, and he lowered them to his sides.

“No, but how could you?” She turned, waving her hand around the large, round room. “I can feel her again. Link, when you destroyed that thing, I could—I can—this.”

All of a sudden, the Divine Beast trumpeted, causing the entire structure to tremble slightly. Mipha laughed, the joy apparent on her face as she threw her head back, arms wide. She turned back to Link. “I’m in control of her again. Somehow, even though I am just a spirit, my connection with her remains.”

It finally dawned on him what this meant, and his eyes widened. “You can still use it against Ganon?”

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “Now that I am in control of her, I can bring her full power to bear on that monster.”

“And if I free the others, then we can attack him like we were supposed to one hundred years ago.” This was the true genius of Princess Zelda’s plan. Impa had mentioned restoring the original functionality to the Divine Beasts, but it never really occurred to him what that would mean.

Silence settled between them as they both considered the path in front of Link. So much had gone into freeing just one. It was daunting to think that Link would have to accomplish this all again three more times before even attempting to destroy Ganon.

“I believe in you, Link.” Mipha reached out, placing her ghostly hand against his arm. He could just feel her touch and the scaled texture of her hand. “You can do this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.” Her hand lingered on his arm for several more seconds before she pulled it away.

Link gave her a grateful look before stepping over to where his Guardian sword fell after the creature disintegrated. He found the deactivated hilt lying in the water and picked it up. He attempted to activate it, but it only sparked fitfully. He tried a few more times before placing it back in his belt. Perhaps he would see if Purah could repair it.

“Link?” He turned at Mipha’s voice. She was standing over by the device in the center of the room. She’d moved around behind it. “Can you come here? I have something I need you to do.”

When Link walked over to where Mipha stood, he saw a glint of silver in the water by her feet. His eyes widened. “Your trident.”

Mipha’s Lightscale trident lay in the shallow pool of water, abandoned after her untimely demise one hundred years prior. Link bent down, wrapping his fingers around its haft, lifting it out of the water. It was pristine, without a spot of rust, despite its age and the condition that it had spent the last one hundred years. It was made of the same silvery white metal that most Zora weaponry was made of, yet it seemed to shine brighter than anything else he had seen. Sapphires glistened at multiple places on the trident, including one very large oval in the center point. It was an incredible piece of craftsmanship.

“I want you to give it to my brother,” she said, looking at her old weapon with fondness.

Link smiled, unable to imagine anyone worthier of inheriting her trident. “I will.”

“And tell him that…” She hesitated, looking down. “Tell him that I am proud of him. He has grown up so strong.”

Link nodded, his smile fading as he saw the sadness in her face. “I’m sorry, Mipha.”

Mipha shook her head, lifting her chin. “It is all right. We have all made sacrifices. It will be worth it when we finish Ganon once and for all.”

“It will be.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

The sun had begun to set when he finally stepped foot off of Ruta again. Mipha had steered it to the East Reservoir Dam, lowering the platform until it lined up with the previously submerged walkway. The excess water had begun to drain out of the reservoir now that the rain had stopped, exposing the white stone.

As Link stepped off of the platform, he looked back and saw Mipha standing in the doorway. She raised a hand in farewell and then disappeared from his view. Ruta began to move again, rising up on its powerful legs and wading across the water to the nearby edge of the reservoir, where it took up its place to watch the distant Hyrule Castle.

Link watched quietly as Mipha moved her Divine Beast into position. She would remain there and wait for Link's signal before making the journey to the castle. He hated the idea of forcing her to wait for him any longer than she already had to, but she assured him that this was far better than it had been. The influence of Calamity Ganon had disappeared completely from her Divine Beast. Even the strange, dark ooze had disappeared upon the creature's demise. She was no longer around the terrible creature that had kept her trapped there. She had hope again.

When she had positioned the Divine Beast, he turned, holding onto her trident. It glinted in the light of the setting sun. He walked down the long back-and-forth stairwell. As he descended, he thought of the memories that had been recovered, along with hints at other things that he had discovered in the process. He still only had a few distinct memories, mostly of Mipha, but he felt that much had been revealed to him as a result. His past had begun to be revealed to him, though it was still very much so skeletal in his mind. It was a start.

Unfortunately, though there had been some things revealed to him, the things left dark seemed all the more daunting as a result. The other Champions were little more than names and faces to him. His family was completely unknown to him. His training as a knight, what he had liked and disliked, his home—all of these things were still lost to him. He knew his father had been a royal knight, and that Link had followed in his footsteps. He must have had a mother, though, right? What of her? What of siblings? Aunts and uncles? Was he the last of his family, or were there distant relations still alive in or around Hateno Village?

And what of Princess Zelda? Link hesitated, standing halfway down the staircase. He looked out at Zora's Domain, stretching before him, and then he reached for his Sheikah Slate. He opened up the picture gallery and found the image of Princess Zelda standing alongside Purah and the man she told him was Robbie. He looked into the slightly embarrassed face of the woman standing in the center.

He had been her knight. It had been his responsibility to protect her. His duty. So why did he have the feeling that their relationship had been more than this? He felt the same compulsion now to save her that he did when he first saw her face. Deep within him, a well of emotions rose—pain, determination, joy, sadness, anger. Without knowing why, he was left with a roiling pit of emotions and nothing to direct them towards. Why did the very image of this woman confuse him so?

He put the Sheikah Slate away and continued down the stairs, deciding that he did not want to think of those things at the moment. They would have to be faced eventually, but in light of his and Mipha's victory, he decided that it could wait for another day.

Link saw the first Zora as he neared the bottom steps of the dam. The Zora was familiar to him, though it took Link a moment to remember her name, despite her distinct lavender color. When she saw him, she came running, calling over her shoulder. Bazz came into view, hurrying after her.

Gaddison. That was it. Her name was Gaddison. She was one of his old friends from before.

"Link!" Gaddison said. "Prince Sidon told us what happened. Has the Divine Beast truly been tamed? You entered it?"

Before Link could respond, Bazz gasped, pointing at the trident in Link's hand. "What is that?" Gaddison's eyes flicked to it and opened wide in shock.

"Is that…"

Link gave them a moment before speaking, standing a little taller than before. "It is. I was… entrusted with it after defeating the blight left behind by Calamity Ganon."

"Calamity Ganon?" Bazz said, eyes widening. "Was that thing controlling the Divine Beast?"

Link nodded.

"And you destroyed it?" Gaddison asked, eyes darting back to look at Link.

"Yes." Link hesitated, wondering how he should properly state this. No matter what words he chose in his head, they sounded… melodramatic. "With help from Mipha's spirit."

Silence followed this pronouncement. Bazz and Gaddison each glanced at each other before looking back to Link. Finally, Gaddison spoke again. "We need to get you back to the king and Prince Sidon. Prince Sidon sustained some injuries in the fight against the lizalfos—that's why he sent us instead of coming himself." At Link's worried expression, she added, "He's going to be all right! He just needed to be seen by the healers before they would let him go anywhere."

Link exhaled in relief and nodded. "Good, I need to speak with him, anyway."

They walked quickly back towards the city. Link had to nearly jog to keep up with the Zora's long strides, but he managed. As they walked, Bazz and Gaddison filled him in on what had happened while he was in the Divine Beast.

The lizalfos had, indeed, made a strong push deep into Zora's Domain, killing the scouts keeping watch in the process. It was sheer happenstance that they were spotted when they were—a pair of Zora had been out gathering fish when one of them saw a lizalfo drinking water just down river. They had immediately swum back upriver to warn the others.

The battle had been a fierce one. Lizalfos were nearly as adept in the water as Zora, and the forces clashed both in the water and land. The Zora had superior numbers, but the lizalfos had brought additional shock arrows that they had gotten from somewhere. In the end, however, the lizalfos had been routed, largely in part, thanks to Sidon. He had led his own squad around Ruto Mountain to come up behind the lizalfos. Sidon, himself, led the charge and battled the lead lizalfo, defeating it, though sustaining several injuries in the process. Leaderless and surrounded, the remaining lizalfos broke, diving into the river and fleeing. The Zora chased them all the way out of Zora's Domain.

As they neared the city, it became clear to Link that it was in a state of celebration. Colorful banners flapped merrily in the wind. A large crowd gathered in the square near Mipha's fountain, and Link thought that he could hear the faint sounds of music being played. He could even see the hulking figure of King Dorephan, who had taken up a place to one side of the square, sitting in a throne that had been moved there for him. Link did not immediately spot Sidon in the crowd.

As the three of them reached the bridge, another pair of Zora were standing guard, spears held high. They, too, reacted strongly at the sight of Link, speaking quickly to each other before one of them turned and dove off the bridge—it would likely be quickly for the Zora to swim across the lake and up a waterfall than to run all the way across the bridge to the city. The remaining Zora watched them pass, eyes on Link and the trident in his hand.

The next Zora that they saw were waiting for them at the end of the bridge, just as they reached the city. Several of the elders had gathered, but Link ignored their stunned looks, locking eyes, instead, with the tall Sidon, who stood in their center. Link saw that he had, indeed, been injured in the battle. His leg had been wrapped in a bandage, and one of his head fins bore a cut that would likely scar, though it had stopped bleeding. A small cut adorned one of his elbow fins as well.

"Link!" Sidon called as they approached and walked forward in large strides, his mouth split into a wide grin. His steps faltered a moment later as his eyes fell on the trident. "The Lightscale trident," he said, breathless. "You found it in the Divine Beast?"

He cut off as Link stepped forward and held the trident out to him. Sidon's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "Link, how could I take that after everything that you've—"

"She asked me to give it to you," Link said, keeping his tone soft. He wished that the other Zora weren't standing around them—this is something that he would have preferred to do in private. There was no helping it now.

Sidon's eyes widened. "She is alive?" Link winced at Sidon's question. He should have worded that better.

"No, Mipha is… She was killed by Ganon. However, her spirit remains within Vah Ruta. She assisted me in retaking it and even controls it now. She asked me to give this to you."

Silence fell between them. For a time, no one spoke before, finally, Sidon kneeled on the bridge so that he could be eye-level with Link. One of the Zora elders made a disparaging sound, but Sidon ignored him. His eyes searched Link's, trying to understand. They flicked towards the trident and then back to him. "She spoke to you?" His voice was a whisper. "And she wanted to give me her trident?"

"She says that she's proud of you." Link smiled at the Zora prince and, once again, held the trident out to him. "Take it, Sidon."

Sidon remained speechless for several seconds. Link could see a bit of the emotions warring with themselves beneath his unusually veiled expression. Finally, he exhaled slowly and smiled, reaching forward and squeezing Link's shoulder tightly.

"Thank you, my friend. This means more to me than—" Sidon cleared his throat, suddenly seemingly overcome with emotion. After a moment, he smiled again and stood, taking the trident from Link's hand. As his fingers closed around the silver haft, he stood up straighter, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He met Link's eyes once more and gave him a quick wink before turning to face the elders.

"Link is a hero to the Zora people." Sidon spoke with a sharpness that had not been there before. "He has saved us again from forces that threatened our homes, he has recovered a treasure beyond accounting, and he freed my sister's spirit from Ganon. He was the friend to the throne one hundred years ago, and he remains one today. If I hear one of you speak ill of him again—even a word—there will be a reckoning. I will personally dole out whatever punishment I see fit. Is that understood?"

Silence followed the proclamation, which had been given with all the authority of the Zora crown. The elders all looked shocked, but that shock eventually gave way to shame. Muzu, his green skin paler than normal, finally shuffled forward. He glanced towards Link and then back up at Sidon. "Yes, your highness." Muzu's eyes shifted to Link. "It would seem that we were wrong about you, Link. You have… more than proven yourself, and I hope that you will forgive me for my petulance."

Link nodded at him, not really sure what to say to the old Zora. He supposed that he still felt irritation towards the whole group of elders. They had been whispering behind his back and speaking out against him to King Dorephan since he arrived two days prior. However, now that he had regained some of his memories of Mipha, he could understand why she was so loved, and why her loss still caused them pain.

"Excellent!" Sidon smiled broadly, the air of command fading as quickly as it had appeared. "Now, I think we need to get back. My father will want to hear a full accounting of what happened, and besides, we still have a celebration to attend!"

Sidon placed a hand on Link's shoulder, leading him through the group of elders, many of whom looked down, unwilling to meet Link's eyes. The two of them walked together at the front of the column of Zora down towards the gathered crowd.

The celebration in Zora's Domain only grew more joyful when King Dorephan, tears in his eyes, announced to his people that Link freed Mipha's spirit and killed the piece of Ganon that had inhabited the Divine Beast. The ensuing cheer that erupted from the crowd had nearly deafened Link, but that was nothing compared to the distant trumpeting of Ruta, which followed the cheer. A hush fell over the crowd as Ruta trumpeted her own seeming joy at being freed. The cheer that followed this was even louder than the first and seemed to cause the foundation of Zora's Domain to tremble.

It was clear that Link's position among the Zora people had changed dramatically from that moment on. Not only were the elders no longer speaking out against him, but the looks he received from many of the other Zora bordered on worshipful now. He was met with grins and friendly greetings, many from Zora that had only the day before greeted him with angry stares and cold shoulders.

He also noticed very quickly that a number of Zora women and youths had suddenly become very interested in spending time near Link. Sidon laughed when Link mentioned it, telling him that he would get used to it and, after a while, he wouldn't even notice the fan club.

Sidon gave Link a purple colored ale made from fermented berries and fish oil. It had a strangely sweet, yet fishy taste. It was also much stronger than anything Link had since he woke. After that, Link's recollections of the night became hazy. He spent most of it with Sidon and Kass, though Bazz, Gaddison, and Rivan had joined them for a time as well. Rivan's daughter, Dunma, had also briefly joined them, though Link thought that was more to prevent her father from getting too drunk on the ale. They all sat together in one of the pavilions positioned on the walkways that circled the city.

At some point, Link recalled getting into an arm-wrestling competition with Gaddison, who beat him soundly. Kass played music and sang some happy ballads. Rivan was pulled away by Dunma. Bazz had to leave to relieve some of the guards who had not been able to take part in the celebrations. Gaddison announced that she was too drunk and was going to bed, diving off the side of the walkway into the lake far below. Eventually, even Kass put away his instruments and bade Link and Sidon a good night.

Sidon looked over at Link from across the small table between them. The alcohol didn't affect him nearly to the degree that it had Link. Sidon still looked quite clear-eyed. Link, on the other hand, felt far more relaxed than he'd felt since he first woke on the Great Plateau. He would probably need Sidon's help to walk back to the square, lest he lose his balance.

At that thought, Link couldn't help but to snort into his cup of ale. Sidon looked at him, raising his eyebrows. Link lowered his mug. "I was just thinking that it would be very ironic if, after killing a lynel and a piece of Calamity Ganon himself, I died by getting drunk and falling off of Zora's Domain."

"Oh, I'm sure that wouldn't kill you. It would hurt, perhaps."

Link glanced over the small railing to the nearly black water, far below. "No, I'm… pretty sure that could kill me."

Sidon glanced over curiously. "Hylian physiology is different than Zora's, I suppose… Good to know!" Sidon grinned broadly at Link. "I will forgo throwing you over the edge as a prank, then."

"What?"

At Link's incredulous look, undoubtedly helped along by the alcohol, Sidon burst out laughing. After a moment of confusion, Link's laughter joined his. It felt good to laugh.

They sat together well into the night, after most other revelers had since gone to their watery homes below the city. Sidon had long since finished the last of their pitcher of ale, and the buzz had begun to wear off Link. As the distant skyline began to grow faintly brighter with the first hints of dawn, Sidon turned, looking towards the dark crystalline cliffs surrounding the Eastern Reservoir Lake.

"I'm sure she would welcome a visit," Link said.

"I do not know what I should say to her."

"Think how I felt," Link said, smiling wryly. He touched the tunic he was wearing. He had put his Champion's tunic back on after Kodah had offered to repair his Zora armor for him. "I showed up wearing her engagement present."

Sidon looked back at him, eyes widening. "I hadn't even considered that."

"Well, I don't think anyone expected Mipha's spirit to be waiting for me to arrive." Link got up, walking over to the side of the pavilion that Sidon was sitting on, leaning against the rail and looking towards where he knew Mipha waited within Ruta. "I wish I could remember more of her. I wonder what I would have said to her had she asked me before the Calamity."

Link paused. "But that doesn't matter now. What does matter is that you should go see her. I don't know how it works with spirits, but I'm sure that she would love to speak with you."

Sidon took a deep breath and looked over at Link, nodding. "You're right. Tomorrow, I'll show you where the shrine is, and then I'll go see her."

Earlier in the evening, Link described Sheikah shrines to Sidon and asked him if he knew of any nearby. Sidon informed him of the location of one that he knew about to the west of Zora's Domain, near a place he called the Veiled Falls, offering to take him.

"Good," said Link, settling back down in one of the cushioned seats that rounded the pavilion.

"So which Divine Beast will you free next?" Sidon asked a short time later, after having turned back.

Link had been considering that, but it seemed to him that the answer was obvious. "I'll head north, to the Gorons. Hopefully their Divine Beast isn't going to cause the volcano to flood Hyrule with magma."

"Yes, I imagine that would be quite unfortunate."

"Probably."

They both shared a smile. After a moment, Sidon took a deep breath. "Thank you, Link. That you've accomplished so much in such a short amount of time—it's astounding! It's no wonder my sister held you in such high regard."

"I couldn't have done anything without help," Link said, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden change in subject. "Both you and Mipha did just as much as I did."

Sidon laughed as if Link had made a joke. When his laughter subsided again, he smiled broadly at Link. "My friend, if you ever have any need, I promise you that we will do whatever we can to assist you. When you have successfully freed all four of the Divine Beasts and are preparing to face the Calamity, do not hesitate to call on the Zora. We will be ready to give aid."

Link smiled at Sidon gratefully and looked back towards the dam and where he knew the distant Divine Beast stood sentinel. Looking at the dam sparked a memory in his mind, and he frowned, looking back at Sidon. "Sidon, earlier in the morning—you said that the dam was sabotaged."

"That's right. Some kind of explosives were used to weaken it. We're lucky we realized it when we did—if we hadn't noticed it before the lizalfo attack, we probably wouldn't have caught it in time before it broke completely."

Link frowned, mulling over this new information. "Why were the lizalfos trying to attack if they just planned to flood everything anyway? Don't they want the river itself?"

It was Sidon's turn to frown now, sitting up straighter and looking at Link. "The lizalfos have never used explosives before. And the water from the dam would have just as likely killed them as it would have us. Even if it didn't, they would have been swept away."

"So was it just a distraction?"

"If so, it was a bad one. It would have disastrous if it had broken. And our soldiers wouldn't have been charged with fixing the dam."

"What if the lizalfo attack was the distraction?"

They both fell silent, considering the implications. Finally, Sidon spoke again. "Who gave the lizalfos so many shock arrows?"

"Most likely whoever tried to destroy the dam." Link frowned deeply, looking at the glowing luminous stone that decorated the center of the table in the pavilion. It made sense. The lizalfos could have been responsible for either the explosion at the dam or the attack on Zora's Domain, but it was unlikely they would have been responsible for both. They contradicted each other.

"This is concerning," Sidon said. "We will have to post guards at the dams. The Rutala Dam is more vulnerable and leaves more Hylians at risk. Do you have any idea who could be responsible?"

Link shook his head. Maybe if he'd had more memories, he would know, but right now... "We have to assume it's someone working for Ganon."

"Which means you may encounter other forms of sabotage."

Link took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. It wasn't that surprising. He was fighting to thwart a creature like Calamity Ganon. It only made sense that Ganon would have someone working to thwart him.

Thoughts of shadow-figures in the night kept his mind occupied, even after he and Sidon finally parted ways, and he walked back to the inn. The sky continued to grow lighter overhead, but Link simply pulled the blanket over his face to try to shut out the morning.

As he slept, his dreams formless and non-sensical, a voice rang out in his mind, clear as though she were standing beside his bed.

"I worried that, with your memory loss, you might have been unwilling, but no. I recognize now that I was foolish. You have never shied away from your destiny before. You've already come so far, Link.

"I know that your road will get harder but know that I will buy you as much time as I can. I will keep Ganon at bay. Be strong. You are not alone."

Link woke from his slumber.

End of Part One

Chapter Text

Side Quests

I

“Well, boys, it’s time to get to work!”

Hudson, a tall, burly man with a curtain of black hair that hung down his forehead and a thick mustache under an equally thick nose, looked up from his seat by the fire and over at the man that had spoken. Bolson was, in his usual way, far more excitable and, really, loud than he would ever quite get used to. But they’d be working together for years now. Ever since his father, Benson, died when he was a child, he had been working alongside Bolson. He was Bolson’s most experienced carpenter and his second-in-command on days that the boss was busy working on the business side of Bolson Construction.

Bolson was his usual colorful self as he walked up to the fire where Hudson and the new hire, Karson, sat (or lay, in Karson’s case). He was shorter than Hudson by a head, balding on top, but with a line of grey hair around the sides and back of his head. His goatee was immaculately trimmed, as always. He wore an open-fronted blue jacket and a pair of shockingly pink pants—freshly dyed. Around his waist, he wore various tools of his trade—hammers, chisels, wood saws, and a number of other tools. Hudson never had the eye for detail work, like Bolson had. Instead, he typically oversaw the heavy lifting and building, and left fine carving for the boss and the few others that excelled in such work in their crew.

Of course, none of them would be doing the finer aspects of their job today. No, today was a day for destruction, not construction. After a lot of arguments and debates, the mayor of Hateno Village and his council finally decided to tear down the old house just outside the village. It was an old house, full of ancient memories of people long dead, though it had also, supposedly, been owned by a famous soldier from the village from before the Calamity. None of that really mattered to him, though—Hudson tended to prefer less clutter. If something wasn’t needed, then why keep it around?

Bolson didn’t quite agree. He wanted to keep the house around for sentimental value, even though it stood in an excellent location for his own business expansion. He claimed that his grandfather used to be friends with the old soldier. But sentimental value did not outweigh the clinking of rupees in Bolson’s mind, so he agreed to take the job of destroying the house, despite his reservations, provided he kept the land for new construction projects. He would not only get paid for tearing the house down but would get paid again when he sold the new construction. Assuming it would sell, of course. The most recent homes that they built hadn’t sold yet. Not many new people came to Hateno Village these days.

“Get up, Karson,” Hudson said in his gruff voice. He slowly stood up, back crackling as he did so. In the tree overhead, several birds began to chirp excitedly once he moved—perhaps they’d been still for so long that the birds forgot they were there? No matter.

To his side, Karson groaned and sat up, running his hands through his short brown hair. He was a young man, newly hired into Bolson Construction, and barely able to tell the difference between a joint and a joist. But he was earnest and a hard worker. It was no wonder that he was picked out by Bolson to work directly with him and Hudson, while the others Sons worked on other projects. True, Hudson would have preferred to have at least another couple of workers with them for the project—maybe Nelson or Bryson—but he would settle for the three of them. They could handle the tear down and leave the cleanup to another crew.

Bolson walked up, swinging his arms as though he lacked a care in the world and smiling broadly. “Sleep well, did you, Karson?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, boss,” Karson said, face reddening.

“Oh no! No need to apologize,” said Bolson, waving his hands emphatically. “I imagine that girlfriend of yours keeps you up late at night.” He grinned broadly as Karson began to sputter, only growing redder in the face. “Now, however, it is time to awaken your inner animal. We are beasts of construction!”

Hudson blew out a long breath through his mustache, but Karson seemed reinvigorated by Bolson’s exuberance. He leaped to his feet, clenching his fists.

“I’m ready, boss!”

“Say it with me! We are—”

“—beasts of construction!”

“Hudson!”

Hudson remained silent.

Bolson looked at Hudson and scoffed. Hudson shrugged. Bolson sighed, but then perked back up, smiling broadly. “Okey-dooooo!” His voice took on a singsong quality as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to work!”

The initial stages of the deconstruction of the house were simple enough. They had already surveyed it, looking for the weak structural links that could bring the whole building down, but Bolson was nothing but thorough, so they surveyed it again, making marks on beams and walls. This was both to help them tear the house down faster, but also served as a caution—it wouldn’t do for one of them to bring the house down with them still in it, after all.

When that was complete, Bolson set them to begin removing anything still in or around the house. The house had largely been emptied over the last century, but a few pieces of broken furniture still remained. The loft had an almost complete bed, though one of its joints had been broken and the mattress, rotten and full of pests, had long since been removed.

Hudson was impressed by the craftsmanship of the house. The house was well over one hundred years old and had been empty since the Calamity, yet it still remained in surprisingly good condition. The roof needed some work, but it was still stable and the wood inside was mostly free of rot. The stairs leading up to the loft creaked but did not bend or give way as he and Karson walked on them. Even he had to admit that it was a shame to tear down such a lovingly made home. Still, a job was a job.

That’s why he was surprised when Bolson cried out to him to stop just as he was raising his sledgehammer to break in one of the walls. A second later, Karson stuck his head out from around the corner, where he’d been removing the rotting front door. Hudson looked over at Bolson, who was standing next to a short man with long, dirty blonde hair, wearing a very bright blue tunic. Strangely, he had a sword and shield strapped to his back and a strange, rectangular device on his hip. He couldn’t remember ever seeing him around Hateno Village before. He stepped closer to where Bolson and the man were having their discussion.

“Well! You’re just a little go-getter, aren’t you?” Bolson said. He glanced up at Hudson and tipped him a small wink—something that the stranger probably easily saw him do. He looked back down at the man. “And you have all of that to give me for the house right now?”

“Well, no,” the blonde man said. “But I can get it. I really just need you to hold off on destroying this house until I can.”

Bolson looked down at the man, raising his hand and tapping his lips. “You know that some people really do want to see this house gone. Are you worried about making them angry? A stranger coming into town, buying up a condemned house… It’s very mysterious!” For all of his professed caution, Bolson was clearly excited by the potential drama that could unfold as a result of all of this. Personally, Hudson doubted there would be any such drama. His boss tended to exaggerate.

“I’m not… quite a stranger,” the younger man said, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, underneath his ponytail.

“And you definitely want this house? You’ve seen it, right? It’s old, outdated, falling apart… Why we just built the new houses across the bridge, which are far more modern and come pre-furnished!”

“No, I need—” The man hesitated, reconsidering, before continuing. “I’d really like to buy this house.”

Bolson continued to gaze at the man, tapping his lips thoughtfully. Finally, he smiled. “Well, you clearly know what you want and intend to pursue it.” He chuckled softly. “Reminds me of me from back in the day… All right, look.” Bolson leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, though still easily loud enough that Hudson hear him. “I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll sell it to you for three thousand, but you’ve got to pay me today.”

Three thousand? Hudson blew out through his mustache. That was less than they were even going to get paid for tearing the house down, much less the amount they could have made on building a new house in its place. But he knew that glint in the boss’ eye. It was the same look that Bolson had when he found that stray dog a few months back, declaring that it would be their new mascot. Now that he’d decided to take pity on the man looking to buy the house, there would be no turning back.

The man stood in silence for a long moment before nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course. Give me just a few minutes—I’ll get the money.” He turned and Hudson saw his face. He was a young man with strikingly blue eyes and not even a day’s worth of scruff on his face. The man nodded at Hudson before hurrying past him. A moment later, Hudson could hear his boots on the bridge leading back towards the village proper.

Hudson looked at Bolson, who grinned and shrugged. “I never could resist a handsome young man in need.” Hudson scoffed. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that!” Bolson said, waggling a finger at Hudson in a scolding manner. “Besides, this way, you can start on your next project all the sooner!”

He had to admit that was a positive outcome. His next job, which would require traveling to the Akkala Highlands, would be far more challenging and, hopefully, rewarding, than tearing down an old house.

He finally shrugged his acknowledgement, which earned him an eye roll from Bolson, who walked past him, patting his arm. “Break time!” he called out in his singsong voice. “Karson, why don’t you put on some tea?”

Hudson watched the boss prance away and blew out one final breath through his mustache. He couldn’t help himself but to give a small smile, however. For all his quirks, Bolson was an excellent boss, business manager, and friend. Hudson reckoned that he would follow Bolson into the Calamity’s maw, if he had to.

A few days later, Hudson sat on a horse-drawn cart at the head of a small team of men and women, several horses, and a few mules. The morning sun had just risen over the sea to the east, and the cool breeze that blew down from Mount Lanayru to the north was not quite enough to banish the sun’s warmth from his bare arms. The day was clear, save for a few puffy white clouds overhead. He could smell the fresh loaf of bread that Bolson had baked for him sitting wrapped in the bag next to him.

“Now, be careful on the roads, Hudson,” Bolson said from beside the cart, one hand on the sanded wood of the seat. Now that the day had come for Hudson to depart, he suddenly seemed very hesitant about sending him on his way. He looked worried.

“I’ll be fine,” Hudson said. In truth, the reason he’d brought so many men was because of concerns over the safety of the roads. Telma had assured them that the roads north towards Zora’s Domain and the Akkala Highlands were usually safe enough, as long as travelers had enough strong-looking men with heavy objects. However, she also expressed concern over increasing boldness of some bands of bokoblins lately, telling them of one such encounter that happened near the Kakariko Bridge.

“I know you will be.” Bolson patted the cart, taking a couple of steps back. He took a deep breath, regaining control over his concerns, and smiled up at Hudson bittersweetly. If all went according to plan, it very well could be a long time before they saw each other again. The trip to Akkala Highlands was not a short one, after all, and both of them would be busy in the months to come with summer rapidly approaching.

Karson walked up to stand beside Bolson, beaming. Hudson smiled a little under his mustache. The boy was just earnest enough to probably get along just fine with the boss in his absence.

“Now, remember! When you hire someone new, make sure they are a good, proper match for the Bolson Construction Company,” Bolson said, eyes twinkling with a certain mischief.

“Of course, boss,” Hudson said, nodding. Though his demeanor did not always show it, Bolson took his employee guidelines very seriously.

“Good! Now…” Bolson took a deep breath, looking over at Karson and gave him a short nod. They both looked back to Hudson and then, together, began to dance. The dance, which involved much waving of arms and swaying of hips, had been gaining in popularity among the members of the Bolson Construction Company, not to mention the local children of Hateno Village. As they danced, they both began to sing the tune that Bolson had declared to be his company’s theme song.

“With love, courage, and hopeful hearts, we give every house a new start!” Bolson and Karson both sang loudly, swaying back and forth in time with each other. “That name again is Bolson! Yeah, yeah! Buh-buh-buh-Bolson! Construction! Bolson! Construction!” The short tune and dance ended as they turned to the side, knees bent slightly, waved their arms and gyrated their hips. “Hoo-wah, hoo-wah!”

Several nearby children cheered, clapping and running up to Bolson, who beamed and patted their heads affectionately. Karson, for his part, seemed very uncomfortable around the children, not at all sure how to act around them, but grinned all the same.

Sighing heavily, Hudson sat up straighter in his seat, looking down at Bolson and smiling. He raised his hand in farewell. Bolson stood up straight, waving his hand enthusiastically. “Good-bye, Hudson! Have safe travels! I will see you again soon, don’t worry.”

Hudson lowered his hand, nodded towards Karson, who now was surrounded by children who seemed to sense his reticence and, therefore, wanted to be around him even more, and clicked his tongue. He snapped the reins in his hands, and the horse began pulling his cart down the hill, away from Hateno Village.

II

The bokoblin on the ridge overlooking the valley west of Hateno Village suddenly began to jump up and down, pointing down into the valley and babbling. It had in one hand an only-slightly broken looking glass, used to surveil the distant village. Beside it sat a tall dark-skinned moblin with a broken horn, which used one of its massive hands to block the light of the rising sun.

An enormous golden-maned lynel walked up to the ridge, which sat beside the massive stone tower, which had a name that none of the gathered creatures knew. The lynel was old and scarred. One of his eyes was milky white and blind, with a scar stretching from the top of his scalp, across the eye, and down his cheek. One of his horns was half gone. His chest bore the scars of years of battle. Stabs, cuts, burns all rent his flesh and fur, yet he lived on, which was less than what could be said about those that left the scars. In the tongues of the beasts, the lynel’s name was Wurka.

With an angry grunt, Wurka took the looking glass from the bokoblin, who backed away quickly, lest he incur the notorious wrath of their leader. The lynel lifted it to his remaining good eye, looking at a small caravan of carts and Hylians left the village, traveling northwest out of the valley. After a few moments, he lowered the looking glass, tapping it with one of his long claws thoughtfully.

“Leave them,” he finally said in a low growl. He thrust the looking glass back towards the bokoblin with instructions to inform him of anything else out of the ordinary. Wurka turned his back on the relieved looking bokoblin and the sleepy moblin, stalking back down from the ridge to the growing encampment at the base of the tower.

Their numbers were growing. The tower sat at the top of a tall cliff, but his camp extended all the way down to the small forest at its base. Multiple cookfires littered the grassy ridgeline, with woodland animals of multiple varieties being cooked and eaten. At one of the cookfires, an exceptionally tall moblin lost her temper at one of the bokoblins near her and stood, grabbing the bokoblin by his head. Wurka watched impassively as the moblin threw the bokoblin, whose arms flailed in panic, off a cliff down to into a depression with a pond at the bottom. The bokoblin screamed all the way down.

Several other moblins cheered her while the other bokoblins around this particular cookfire decided to move onto a cookfire containing friendlier—and smaller—individuals. Wurka watched this with some pride. He did not discourage infighting among his growing army. No, rather, he encouraged it, wanting his fighters to be as savage as they were fearsome.

For too long, his people had been hunted and shunned by the Hyrulean races. There were so few of the proud lynels left, but that would change. It would change soon. In the meantime, he would continue to watch, train, and gather more forces.

III

Master Kohga steepled his long, aged fingers, looking through his mask at the two members of his clan that kneeled on the floor beside him. Torches dimly lit the stone walls of the small chamber that sat at the center of his clan. His kingdom. Tapestries of various colors lined his walls, including one that showed a giant, dark-skinned pig-like creature wielding a trident. Directly above his cushioned throne sat his symbol—the inverted eye of the Yiga clan.

His Yiga clan.

Smiling from behind his white mask emblazoned with the same symbol, Master Kohga slowly rose from his throne. He stepped down from the dais, walking slowly around the two members of his clan that kneeled on the floor. Their masks had been removed, as was customary in the presence of their leader.

He clasped his hands behind his back, turning away from them. Let them sweat, unaware if he was pleased or displeased by the message they had just delivered. In truth, he was displeased in their performance. He just hadn’t decided what to do with them yet.

He had expected them to return with news of the destruction of Zora’s Domain. He had certainly served it up on a silver platter for those disgusting lizalfos. He had equipped them with better weapons and tactics, given them scores of shock arrows, and even had his agents remove the Zora sentries from the equation. The lizalfos should have served as a perfect distraction for the Zora, allowing his agents to destroy the dam and flood both of the disgusting races away.

The plan was perfect! Foolproof! Kohga thought, scowling. But, somehow, that boy had foiled everything. Worse yet, he had even somehow calmed that Divine Beast. Kohga’s hands, still behind his back, balled into fists. It was, of course, the same boy that his spy in Kakariko Village had reported to him. Blue tunic, long, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, claiming to be the hero of legend that had supposedly died one hundred years prior.

Assuming his story was true, the boy had somehow been saved and preserved for the last one hundred years. That fool, Impa, had apparently known about it, though the Yiga had never been able to get even a hint of the boy’s survival. It was infuriating to know that Impa had actually kept such a secret. Had she really gone the last one hundred years without telling anyone? Surely, if she had, he would have eventually heard. Even the faithful Sheikah occasionally got too drunk at the tavern, after all. This was, of course, if the story was even true. He had his doubts.

Still, though, he thought as he looked up to the tapestry that showed the dark-skinned creature. If it is true, maybe it’s a sign? Will the Calamity finally rise again to meet this new enemy?

He walked slowly around the room, pausing by a pair of sickles hanging on the wall. He reached up with one long finger, running it along the cool black metal. Of course, it was only cool because it was here, deep within his underground fortress. Had it been outside, in the torturous heat of the desert sun, it would have burned his finger at the touch.

Releasing a scream of frustration, Kohga grabbed the sickle from the wall, ripping it free of its supports. He turned, staring at the two kneeling clan members, who, to their credit, did not turn or panic at his weapon. He could see the signs of their fear, though. A slight tremor in the arm, a pulsing vein in the neck, a held breath.

Perhaps he should just kill one of them. The whispers at the back of his mind certainly suggested he do so. They had failed him, after all. Worst of all, the Zora had detected the sabotage, and they had reported increased security at the dams. The Zora knew of some form of outside sabotage—not surprising, considering how stupid the lizalfos were. It made no sense that they would be intelligent enough to come up with as good a plan as he had!

I should have thought of that, he mused, gazing down at the black metal. I’m too genius, too… superior. Should have dumbed down my plan for the dim-witted. Then they wouldn’t have all failed me. They failed me.

He would not kill these two. Not today, anyway. There were few that had actually seen the resurrected boy with their own eyes. He would need them for now. Kohga whirled away from them, stabbing the sickle into one of the hanging tapestries. Its point hit the stone wall behind the tapestry, the force of the impact wrenching the sickle from his hand. It clattered noisily on the ground.

Clenching his hands into tight fists, he turned away from the fallen sickle, walking away with a stiff back. He moved back to his throne, settling back into it with a sigh. Unlike most of the rest of his haven, his throne was covered in soft, plush fabric. It felt like a chair that royalty would sit it. Fitting, then, that he was the one who sat in it.

“You both will take a team of Yiga out into Hyrule. Find this boy. Confirm his identity. And, when you have, kill him. After he is gone, report back to me with who he truly was. If this is the hero of legend come back, it could mean that Calamity Ganon is likewise preparing for its return…”

That would be interesting. Kohga wondered what he would have his Yiga do if Ganon did, in fact, return. Would he dutifully serve the monster? Perhaps. For a time. He doubted that he would have the patience to serve under another for long, though. He supposed that he would have to kill the creature eventually. Perhaps, then, the whispers would stop.

His two scouts stood up straight, folding their hands together beneath their ribs, and bowed before standing back up. Together, they backed away and walked purposefully out of the room, replaced by a tall Yiga woman named Haia. This one did not remove her mask—a slight, but Kohga would allow it for her. She was his top lieutenant, after all.

“So, it is true?” she asked. “Has the hero truly returned from the dead?”

“Perhaps.” Kohga steepled his fingers over his stomach, which puffed out only slightly. “If so, our plans do not change. In fact, if he is going around, taming the Divine Beasts, then it is even more imperative that we succeed.”

“I agree, Master Kohga. That is why I have ordered our spies among the Gerudo to act.”

“Good. When will they return with the Thunder Helm?”

“You should expect them to return within the week.”

“Excellent.” Master Kohga nodded thoughtfully. Without the Thunder Helm in their possession, the Gerudo would be helpless against their own Divine Beast, which had recently awakened. Its sandstorm and lightning strikes would serve the Yiga clan well as they began to enact their extended plans for gaining control over the various regions in Hyrule. Zora’s Domain was a setback, but the Zora would be dealt with in time.

Perhaps he would control all of Hyrule by the time Ganon rose again. If so, perhaps it would be Ganon who was forced to bend a knee to Kohga’s might, rather than the alternative. King Kohga did have a nice ring to it, after all.

Underneath his white mask, Kohga smiled.

IV

Kass smiled down at the beautiful structures of Zora’s Domain from atop the ridge west of the city. He had left early that morning, saying his farewells to Prince Sidon and the other Zora whose presence he had enjoyed while taking up residence in the city. He had not finished the song he promised to write for Sidon but planned to return once his song had been completed. Perhaps he would be able to travel with his wife and daughters by then. It certainly seemed like a possibility, given recent events.

Link had left two days prior, riding out of Zora’s Domain on his horse, packs laden with gifts of dried fish and other gifts. Kass noted a significant difference in the way the man was viewed among the Zora after the events of the Divine Beast. And their newfound warmth was not directed towards Link alone; the Zora suddenly seemed that much warmer to members of all other races as well. Certainly, he had felt even more welcome than before, and Kass had even overheard Prince Sidon discussing ways to secure more of the waterways outside of Zora’s Domain. It seemed like a very real possibility that the peoples of Hyrule may finally begin to push back against the pain and sadness that had permeated the land for the last century.

It gave Kass hope to think that his daughters may be able to grow up in a land full of new life and joy. To give them a chance to live their lives out from under the terrible threat of Calamity Ganon and his minions—that was the greatest gift that Kass could wish for them. Of course, his own part in that narrative was small, but he would play it to the best of his abilities.

Here in Zora’s Domain, the Zora people finally had hope again. Kass could work with that. He could make something of that. Link would make his trip towards the Gorons next and, as much as Kass wished he could follow Link for the sake of seeing his accomplishments firsthand, he knew that there were other things that he could do, instead. Besides, he had already visited the Gorons in the past to discuss their deceased Champion, so it would make little sense to revisit them.

He would travel south to visit the Hylian and Sheikah people. They would have likely already heard of Link’s accomplishments from his own mouth (how wonderful would it be for Kass to have a device such as the Sheikah Slate!), but Kass doubted that many of the common folk had heard it yet. A few nights in the inns and stables would do the people there good.

After that, he imagined that he would travel west, to the desert. He would not be allowed entry into the Gerudo city, but he would still have an audience outside the city. The Gerudo women may not allow males into their cities very often, but they appreciated music as much as any of the other races.

He was in for a long journey, even by flight. Still, it would be good to stretch his wings again, after being grounded for as long as he had been, thanks to the rain. He had worried that his concertina would have been damaged by the moisture, but his weather-proof case held up well, keeping the sensitive instrument dry. The sun felt warm and inviting. The weather was perfect for flight.

As he walked up the hills, northwest of Zora’s Domain, preparing himself to take flight where his difficulty in gaining rapid altitude would not be a hindrance, he wondered when he would meet Link again. He was, of course, quite certain that their paths would cross again, and likely in the near future. But when that future would take place, Kass was not certain.

He took a deep breath, spreading his wings to their full ten-foot span. He angled himself so that the wind would help him gain speed and altitude and then began running forward, flapping his wings. His feet left the ground, and he straightened them behind him as he flapped again, skimming ten feet over the grass. Within a few moments, he caught a pocket of rising warm air, which helped him soar over the cliffs overlooking the Akkala Highlands.

After he cleared the cliffs, he banked right, looping around Ploymus Mountain, where he had witnessed Link’s defeat of the lynel. What a glorious battle that had been! He began to review his memories of the event, humming the song he was working on to accompany the tale. He passed over the Eastern Reservoir, where he could see the Divine Beast Vah Ruta still stationed, waiting her summons to go into battle for Link.

Kass wondered if Link truly understood the effect that he had on people. It was more than his accomplishments. Even before defeating the lynel and taming the Divine Beast, he had been able to inspire courage in both Sidon and Kass, himself. His simple confidence brought such change in people’s demeanor. His very presence meant hope.

It was no wonder that the princess fell in love with him all those years ago. Perhaps Kass would tell Link that story someday. What he knew of it, anyway.

He smiled as he angled into the wind, expertly adjusting his wing and tail feathers just right to catch the breeze. He quickly gained altitude, soaring high above the green land far below. It felt good to fly so freely, when doing so near his home was so dangerous due to their own Divine Beast. It would be good when Link made his way to Rito Village to free Medoh.

Chapter Text

PART TWO

Chapter Seventeen

Death Mountain loomed large and imposing over Link as he gazed at it from his perch atop the Lanayru Tower. The volcano stood tall in the middle of a red, craggy landmass. The green of Zora’s Domain and Hyrule Field faded, giving way to the red dirt and rock. The path, from what he could see, led into a series of switchbacks that winded their way up the mountainous terrain until, finally, reaching the base of the volcano.

He could see the Divine Beast. Vah Rudania. He hadn’t seen it before, but that’s because his visibility had been hindered by the rain that had hovered over Zora’s Domain. He could see it now, though—a massive lizard-like construction that walked on the steeply sloped surface of Death Mountain as if it were nothing more than a gentle hill. It seemed unperturbed by the jagged lines of magma that flowed down from the open maw of the volcano.

As Link watched, the distant Divine Beast paused, lifted its head, and opened its mechanical mouth in a silent roar. He frowned. Ruta had controlled the weather over Zora’s Domain and had—just recently—started acting out. Was that a coincidence, or was there something more sinister happening? Was Rudania acting out in a similar manner? And, if so, what power did it have over the land?

Link sighed and reached down to the small package sitting on the floor of the Sheikah tower next to him. He carefully unwrapped it, revealing dried strips of lamb and a few carrots. He’d picked this handy meal up at Kakariko Village several days prior, before riding out of Zora’s Domain. He wondered if he should make any more trips to Kakariko or Hateno now that he had unlocked the tower in this region, enabling quick travel between the two. He could not think of anything that he either did not already have or did not want to have to carry, however, and it was still too early in the day to warrant traveling back to sleep in his new house. A house purchased, of course, through the loan of rupees by a very old Sheikah in a young girl’s body.

While he ate a carrot with one hand, he used his other hand to navigate through the menus on his Sheikah Slate, activating the Telescope Rune. He lifted the Slate one-handed up and peered through its translucent screen at the path winding up towards Death Mountain. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for. A small settlement at the base of the foothills, right before the path transformed into the switchbacks.

It was here that most of the trading to and from Death Mountain was done, from what Link had been told. Gorons would transport valuable ore and gems down the mountain and trade for fire-resistant cloth, spices, and other materials not found on or around Death Mountain. Or, at least, that is how it once was, before the Calamity. Now, however, no one that Link had talked to really knew what he would find. From this distance, Link could not see any movement within the settlement. He knew that some trade still happened, so he presumed that someone still occupied the settlement. How many people, however, was another question entirely.

He set the Sheikah Slate down and finished off the small meal he’d packed himself. Standing, he gathered up his supplies, taking one last look around the tower. His eyes fell on Hyrule Castle. For the briefest of moments, he saw a flash of memory in his mind—a beautiful castle against a clear blue sky—but then it disappeared. That had been happening more often lately, except for the one location that Link hoped it would: his home.

He bought the house in Hateno Village, preventing it from being torn down, because he had found out that it once belonged to his family before the Calamity. He’d hoped that being in it would spark some memory of his father or mother or his experiences growing up, but those memories remained firmly locked behind the barrier in his mind put in place by the Shrine of Resurrection.

Link shook off the thoughts and took a deep breath, stepping up to the edge of the tower. Far below, across the Zora River, he could see Spirit. The horse had, as he always did, remained close to where he’d been left, drinking water from the river and munching on tufts of grass. Link unfolded the paraglider and held it above his head. He still had to push down flutters of anxiety at the prospect of leaping off such a high location.

That anxiety fled when he stepped off the tower, however, and the wind caught his paraglider. He could fly. At least, that’s how it felt to him as he floated over the river below. Air rushed through his hair, blowing his loose sideburns, and causing his blue Champion tunic to flutter lightly.

He crossed the river with ease and banked his glider gently, sending him into a lazy spiral. From this vantage, he felt as though he could see everything. A rabbit hopping across the dirt road froze in fear when Link’s shadow passed overhead. A fox curiously nosed around in the grass, looking for food. He even caught sight of a majestic buck with a many-pointed set of antlers standing sentinel in a tree-lined meadow.

Grinning, Link circled back around into the wind. He could see fish swimming in the river. Suddenly, a grey blur shot down past him, straight into the water below. A moment later, a grey and white bird burst out of the water, flapping its wide wings. It lifted out of the water, carrying a large, green fish in its talons. Amazed, he watched as the bird laboriously gained altitude while simultaneously fighting to control the wildly writhing fish. It gave him ideas on how he could use the paraglider in an ambush.

Finally, he glided down, landing with a small stumble on the road, just a few feet from where Spirit lazily ate grass. As he touched down, his horse looked up, meeting his eyes, and snorted. Spirit returned to his grass. Link smiled, folding up the paraglider and walking over to strap it in place on Spirit’s saddle. He would have to figure out what he would carry and leave behind when he finally made the trek up Death Mountain. He wouldn’t be able to take Spirit up into the extreme heat of the volcano. He would have enough trouble carrying enough water for himself, much less try to find a way to keep the horse fed and watered.

He looked up towards the volcano. A pillar of grey smoke rose from it, mingling with the patchy clouds overhead. How strange it must be to live in such a volatile place.

“I mean, their homes—not to mention their lives—are always at risk. An unexpected lava flow, earthquakes, and even the occasional full eruption—any of these could happen at any time.”

Link looked over at the speaker. Princess Zelda was dressed in her normal blue travel attire, though the sleeves of the white undershirt had been rolled up to her elbows. Still, the heat of the summer sun beat down on them, leaving a light sheen of sweat on her brow. They had both hoped that they would escape some of this heat upon leaving the Gerudo Desert, and they had for a time. However, spring gave way to an abnormally hot summer. Somehow, Link thought that they could have planned their visit to Daruk and Rudania a little better.

Still, once the princess got her mind set on something, there really was no changing it. She was as stubborn as a Gerudo. Or perhaps a Goron. He kept the comparison to himself. He did not think she would appreciate it very much.

“We will have to leave the horses soon, too, won’t we?” she asked, reaching up and placing a hand upon her white stallion’s neck. They hadn’t been getting along very well lately. Link thought that the royal horse, which matched the pride and stubbornness of his master well, might have been offended at being left at the stable outside of the desert, instead of being allowed to continue traveling with them. Unfortunately, the situation there was much like the situation here—it was too hot and there was too little water to risk the horses. He would have to try to give her some advice on how to ease the horse’s wounded pride. That was, if he could figure out how to do so without wounding hers in the process.

“Well?” Her voice had grown sharper, drawing his attention back to her. She raised her eyebrows, irritated green eyes clearly demanding an answer. Link opened his mouth to do so.

And she was gone.

Link slowly closed his mouth as the memory faded. It had happened so suddenly that, in a way, it didn’t even feel like a memory to him. It could have just happened. She could have been standing right there. She had been standing right there. One hundred years ago.

Closing his eyes, Link sighed softly. Memories, such as these, had begun to come more regularly. He’d begun seeing them with more frequency after defeating the Divine Beast, mostly in and around Zora’s Domain. Many of them had been with Mipha, though he had even recalled some of the antics he’d shared with the Big Bad Bazz Brigade, as they had called themselves so many years ago.

Link opened his eyes again, inhaling the sweet scents of spring. How much longer will spring continue? he wondered. He’d awoken several weeks prior, and truth be told, he had no idea how late into the season it was. Based on the activity in the fields around Hateno Village and Kakariko, however, he assumed that they were still in the midst of planting season, so it would be some time before the summer heat overtook him. Perhaps Death Mountain would be more bearable when he visited it this time.

Smiling faintly, Link lifted a foot into Spirit’s stirrup and hefted himself up onto the horse’s back. Patting Spirit’s neck gently, he clicked his tongue and nudged the horse’s side with his knee. They began to move at a gentle trot, turning up the path that led towards Death Mountain.

The path took Link northeast for a time, up a hill lined with pine trees. To the right side of the road rose the steep cliffsides of the ridges and plateaus surrounding Zora’s Domain from this side, while further north, the land dropped off into a large valley labeled Trilby Valley on the Sheikah Slate. The hill seemed to mark the border between the more lush and verdant areas of Hyrule Field and Zora’s Domain, while the earth in the valley grew redder and the grass sparser.

As he rode Spirit, he began to notice other signs of habitation. There were noticeable tracks on the road left by boots, hooves, and cart wheels. While the ground was dry now, it had only recently been thick mud as a result of the rains from Zora’s Domain, leaving many of the tracks deeply set in the packed dirt. He did see other tracks too—tracks that he thought might belong to lizalfos, bokoblins, or the larger moblins—but these were rarer and further spread out.

Seeing the signs of life bolstered Link’s mood as he climbed the hill. Though he didn’t see anyone else on the road, the fact that others did still travel it meant much to him. What would it be like, if he successfully defeated Ganon? Would the kingdom of Hyrule rise again, or would another nation rise in its place? What would come of the Zora, the Rito, and the Hylians? Kass and Sidon both had lamented the fact that their races were so insulated from each other. Would that change after Ganon was defeated? Could it change before then?

Could I do something to change it? Link thought as he looked up at the cliffs to his south. The Zora seemed more amenable to outsiders now. Were the Gorons as unwelcoming as the Zora had been?

Link pulled out his Sheikah Slate, gazing down at the smooth black surface of its screen. He opened up the image gallery and began to slowly scroll through the dozens of photographs that Princess Zelda had left on it. As he flipped through images of flowers and fauna, of landmarks, and the people that she obviously cared for, Link was struck by a sense of wonder at the level of insight this simple device gave him into her character.

He still knew so little about her, yet he thought that he could guess at her personality from this. He thought that she must have been a patient person. Warm to the people around her. He thought to his brief memory of her earlier in the day—she was intelligent and studious. She loved the land and the people within it. He’d thought of her as stubborn, but why wouldn’t she be? She was a princess, after all. But, more than that, it seemed to him that, in that brief memory, she had spoken to him simply and with no airs of royalty. It made him think of the way Sidon interacted with his entourage. Had Princess Zelda been as relaxed around Link as Sidon was with his guards?

He landed on the image of the princess dressed in her white gown and standing before the pool of water. Her expression seemed sad, but she still smiled. What was she thinking in this moment? Was she hopeful for a future without Ganon? Was she fearful for the eventual confrontation? What did she see when she saw Link? Did she see a hero? A guardian? A friend?

He wondered if she could see him now.

The morning gave way to the mid-afternoon by the time Link reached the fork in the road. He still hadn’t seen anyone on the road as he traveled, but that was no longer surprising to him after all of the travel he’d done since waking. After consulting his map for a time longer, Link turned Spirit to the right, away from Death Mountain and towards the Akkala Highlands.

Purah had not had any ability to fix his Guardian sword when he brought it to her. Well, he supposed, she very well may have been able to fix it, but she flat out refused, stating that her research was in Ancient Sheikah technology and Guardians, not weapons and armor. Then she told him to go see Robbie if he wanted to get his sword fixed.

It’s like they’re not in any hurry for me to save the world, Link thought with a wry smile. But the detour would only take about a week, by his estimation of the map. He was worried about his ability to harm the creations of Ganon without one of the strange energy weapons, though. It would not be good to go into the fight unprepared, assuming a similar creature occupied Rudania.

Shortly after the fork, the road transitioned from dirt to one of old brick. Many of the bricks had long since been overgrown with grass or covered with dirt, but he could still see many of the grey bricks underneath the overgrowth. Spirit’s hooves clip-clopped loudly enough to echo off the sheer cliff face to Link’s right. As they continued up the hill, Link saw a lake spread out below him and, in the distance, the trading post in the foothills of Death Mountain.

With sudden and abrupt certainty, Link knew that he’d traveled this road before. While he saw no flash of memory to accompany this feeling, he knew that he had walked this road alongside Princess Zelda. He could almost see her on her white horse, riding alongside him. Perhaps she would be taking photographs with the Sheikah Slate. Out of curiosity, he pulled his Sheikah Slate out again, checking for any photographs from this location, though finding none. Still, satisfied with the sense of rightness that he felt, he continued on, his head held high.

That evening, he made camp just past another fork in the road, in the midst of some old ruins that he thought might have once been some kind of watch post. He found a few rusted shields and broken spears that told him as much. As he looked around for wood for a fire, he found other signs of life in the area. The faded and tattered remains of a flag mostly buried under rubble, the remains of an old bed, and a broken cylindrical telescope. More worrisome, he found indication of other, more recent inhabitants as well. Old cookfires, picked apart animal skeletons, and a roughly carved wooden club. Clearly, bokoblins had made camp here before as well.

The thought of it made Link’s skin crawl, and he proceeded to do another loop around his small camp, crouching low and looking for any fresher signs of the monsters. Though he found nothing recent, there were plenty of indications that they had used it in the past. Tonight, however, Link was alone.

He did find out what happened to the watch post, though. As he rummaged around for any fresher signs of bokoblins, he came across the broken leg of a Guardian. Just a single leg. But it told him what he needed to know. Why this place had been reduced to little more than rubble and the old remains of its foundation.

Perhaps the soldiers here had put up a fight—even managed to take a Guardian’s leg off—but it hadn’t been enough to stop their wave of destruction. This wasn’t like the Temple of Time or even Fort Hateno; no Guardian corpses littered the ground here. It hurt Link to think of those forgotten soldiers, fighting, perhaps, to save their home, as he had done all those years ago. They had likely fallen, just as he had.

Link returned to his camp, carrying what broken pieces of wood he could find among the ruins. He cooked the last of the salted fish that the Zora had given him on his cookpot, adding a few spices and herbs that he had picked up in Hateno Village. The meal turned out well, though he thought that he could do better with the mixture of spices. Either way, other than some of the travel rations he had packed from Hateno Village, he would need to start hunting for meat again tomorrow, if he wanted to have anything beyond jerky and mushrooms.

It took him some time to fall asleep that night, mind plagued with thoughts of scared soldiers desperately trying to fend off advancing Guardians. It was far enough away from the castle that they may not have even known that the castle had fallen. They had probably wondered where their princess and the Champion with the Legendary Sword was.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Can I see it?”

The soldier was not so much younger than Link himself. He was slightly shorter than Link, with freckles and a mop of red hair. He had left his spear resting against the wall of the barracks in his haste to meet the man who wielded the sword of legend.

In truth, Link would rather not pull the Master Sword out to show every young boy and girl that dreamt of someday being a hero for Hyrule, but it seemed wrong of him to refuse the boy’s request. After all, how long ago had it been that he had been just like this boy? He hadn’t been a soldier; rather, he had been a squire in service to a knight. But he dreamed of being a hero, all the same.

Oh, how he sometimes wished he could have gone back and slapped his younger self.

Link reached over his shoulder, pulling the Master Sword out of its scabbard. As always, it slid free with ease, as if it were eager to be out of its confines. The young man’s eyes widened as he took in the brilliant blade and its purple hilt. It was a magnificent weapon, unblemished and always sharp. It was perfectly balanced, just the right weight, and the exact length that he needed. It was unfortunate, then, that carrying it proved to be such a burden.

“Would you like to hold it?” Link asked, his voice quiet.

The young man looked up at Link in surprise and, after a moment of hesitation, shook his head. “Oh, no, Sir Link. I couldn’t. I don’t think that the sword would find me worthy, and I’ve heard the legends of what happens when the Master Sword does not find someone worthy.”

Myths. So far, in all of Link’s short time wielding the Master Sword, he had yet to see it sap the life out of someone who touched it. Still, though, he would not push the matter. Nodding, he returned the Master Sword to its scabbard. The soldier’s eyes followed it hungrily. He looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but then appeared to decide otherwise, thanking Link and retrieving his spear.

Link sighed softly and walked over to stand in the open doorway of the Southern Akkala guard post. Outside, lightning flashed and torrential rain poured. He and Princess Zelda had been in Goron City for the last week, helping Daruk master his control over the Divine Beast. Two days before they departed, a man had arrived, bearing a message for the princess, informing her of a new discovery that the doctors Purah and Robbie had made in the Akkala Highlands. Her original plan had been to visit Mipha in Zora’s Domain to get an update on her control over Ruta, but that, it would seem, could wait.

It had been Link’s hope to reach the Citadel and rest there for the night, as it was far more defensible than this small watch post, but as least Princess Zelda had agreed to take the guard-captain’s quarters for the night. He had spoken with the captain, and the old soldier had readily agreed to post guards outside of her door. Link would take up that post later in the night, when he knew an attack would be most likely. She would likely be irritated to see him standing guard when she woke in the morning—she never liked when he posted guards outside of her door, after all.

Still, he was her appointed knight and would not shirk his duties, even when in a supposedly safe location. If she disliked it, then she would have to take that up with her father. He couldn’t help but to smile slightly at the thought, knowing full well that she had already done so. Repeatedly.

“Sir Link?” The new voice behind him made Link sigh softly before turning around to find another soldier—this one older than Link by at least two decades—looking hopefully towards the hilt sticking up from behind Link’s shoulder. “Would you be willing to allow me the chance to glimpse your sword?”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The next morning brought Link the chance to see what he had been unable to see in the deep of the night before. North of the ruins that he had slept in, across the bridge that led into the Akkala region, stood a castle.

At first, it looked as though the castle was impossibly tall, easily dozens of stories in height. However, upon further inspection, he determined that, no, it had just been built upon a mountain, which accounted for most of its height. Finally, as he pulled out his Sheikah Slate to inspect it closer, he realized with shock that it was not built on a mountain, but into it. Stone walls and structures had been erected all around the mountain—at its base, on its sides, and at its peak. And at the center of the castle stood a glowing Sheikah Tower.

Eyes wide, Link lowered the Sheikah Slate, clipping it to his belt. His map named this structure, though it gave no indication to its significance or its magnificence. The Akkala Citadel. He felt almost giddy at seeing it. He wondered if the structure held people. Why wouldn’t the refugees of one hundred years ago have settled in a castle like that? While he was still too far to make out clear details, the idea of finding another stronghold of Hylian-kind excited him.

He quickly gathered his equipment and saddled Spirit, riding north across a bridge that spanned a deep canyon. It took him more than an hour before the road he followed wound past the ruins of an old town that sat at the base of the Citadel. The mountain that the Citadel sat on sprang up from the bottom of a large canyon, and the only way to reach it was by crossing a bridge over the canyon. This small town sat on the side of the bridge opposite the Citadel—a home for families of soldiers and a marketplace for those soldiers to enjoy while not on duty.

At least, that is what the old town of Kasuto had likely been one hundred years prior. Now, as Link turned off the road that led past the town and rode through the shattered gate that had once protected the town, he found it to be a lifeless husk. It was much like the other ruins he had found on his journey—many of the buildings had been destroyed beyond recognition while those that still had standing walls were still in no condition to be lived in.

But what of the Citadel? Had it stood in the face of the Guardian attack? Link’s earlier hopes had begun to fade as he saw the state that Kasuto had been left in, but they were dashed as he stopped at the foot of the bridge that led across to the Akkala Citadel. The bridge that crossed the canyon had long ago collapsed, leaving Link with no way of inspecting the Citadel in person. From what he could see from here, however, told him all he needed to know.

Like the Temple of Time with its side that made it look whole, the Citadel also looked unblemished from one side, while the other revealed the destruction that it had suffered. Dead Guardians were visible all over the Citadel. Some of them lay in heaps at the bottom of the canyon while others had been frozen in their ascent up the mountain, spider-like legs still somehow clinging to the rock after one hundred years. Those that had gotten into the fortress, however, had clearly done the damage they needed to.

He could see Guardian corpses in the midst of the destroyed walls, having breached the defenses of the fortresses before, finally, being defeated. That alone would not have meant the Citadel was lost, of course, but the presence of the substance that Impa called Malice likely did. He could see the strange purple substance—the same from within the Divine Beast—oozing out from within the Citadel, sliding down walls and covering floors. He doubted that any Hylian would be able to cohabit a place with the substance.

With a sigh, Link prepared to turn back and continue on his way when movement from the Citadel stopped him. He looked back and frowned as he saw something hovering in the air near the Sheikah tower. It was difficult to make out from his distance, so he pulled out the Sheikah Slate and used the telescope mode to get a better picture of what the thing was.

It was some kind of construct made of black metal that hovered via a trio of spinning blades that chopped the air. A single blue eye at the end of a long cylinder hanging down from its inverted body swiveling around and looking at its surroundings. The flying thing’s advanced construction and the designs on its body meant that it was unmistakably Ancient Sheikah in design, and it glowed with the red light that had infested Ruta.

It was a Guardian. Different, yes, from the many-legged Guardians that Link had seen thus far, but its design was clear. Furthermore, it was still functioning.

Fear gripped Link’s heart as he watched the Guardian hover around the ruins of the Citadel, guarding it from anyone seeking to reclaim the fortress or, perhaps, still seeking for any remaining life within it. After seeing the Guardians on the Great Plateau and Fort Hateno, he had assumed that they were all broken down, if not defeated. But here was proof that at least one still survived and remained under Ganon’s influence.

Link turned Spirit, gripping the reins in a white-knuckled grip. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he turned his back on one of the things that had killed him a hundred years prior. Could it see him from so far away? Would it follow, if it did? Link kicked his horse into a gallop, leaning low over the horse’s neck and urging as much speed out of him as he could. He sped through the old town, expecting that, in any moment, he would feel searing heat on his back.

As Spirit burst out from Kasuto’s gates, Link finally looked back. Nothing followed. The Guardian had not seen him. He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, leaning over with his hands on his knees. He shook violently and closed his eyes, trying to force down the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to overtake him. It was too much.

Fumbling with his Sheikah Slate, he navigated it to the map screen. His finger hovered over the icon that would teleport him back to Hateno Village, back to the house he called his own. But what would that accomplish? Eventually Purah would find out he was there and come demanding to know what he was doing. Zora’s Domain, then? No, the eyes of the Zora elders would only grow accusing once more. Finally, he settled on the Great Plateau. The tower. He could teleport there, away from everyone else. No one could reach him there.

The Sheikah Slate shook in his hands. Finally, with a groan, he clipped it back to his belt. Link sat in the red dirt of the Akkala Highlands, breathing deeply and trying to calm his nerves. It wasn’t coming after him. It wouldn’t attack him. It wouldn’t kill him again. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force the image of the flying Guardian from his mind. Why couldn’t he forget it like he’d forgotten everything else?

Link felt something warm press against the back of his head. A second later, he felt a blast of hot air against his neck as Spirit snorted. Link exhaled slowly, reaching back and patting the horse’s warm nose. He opened his eyes again and stood, brushing the dirt off of his pants. He turned, running his hand along Spirit’s nose. “Thanks, boy.”

After fishing out an apple from his pack and giving it to the horse, he remounted and rejoined the road, leaving the fallen Citadel behind.

That evening, Link made camp in a small cleft at the base of a long ridge. Shortly after passing the Citadel, the land began to slope down into a deep valley between the ridge and a series of steep hills and saddles. He would have been fine making camp under one of the trees, but a light, drizzling rain began shortly before sunset, coupled with plummeting temperatures. It had not been difficult to find a small alcove that provided shelter from the rain and gave him the chance to build a fire.

As the wood crackled in the fire, Link leaned back up against the wall of his makeshift shelter. Around him, his various weapons and pieces of equipment were arrayed. He had attempted to sharpen his Zora sword, but found its edge to still be quite sharp. His bow, likewise, was in fine condition and needed no maintenance. He had replenished his arrows in Zora’s Domain, leaving him with a quiver full of ordinary arrows and several remaining shock arrows, as well. His shield had suffered some damage when fighting the beast inside Ruta, but it still seemed sturdy enough, though the red Sheikah eye now had a deep gash across its iris.

Absently, he picked up the Guardian sword, attempting to thumb it active again. Like before, it released a few feeble sparks, but otherwise, remained inert. Sighing, Link placed it down on the ground to join the other pieces of equipment. He leaned his head back against the cool rock.

Something felt wrong. He was restless, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with seeing the Guardian earlier. Instead, he thought that it had something to do with his travels with Princess Zelda. Something about the path he’d taken the latter part of the day—continuing north into the forest instead of taking the road that would have taken him down into the wetlands—continued to stick out in his mind.

He felt certain that he had traveled this road with Princess Zelda, and that it had been an important trip. Closing his eyes, he tried to locate the source of what he felt. He felt… anxiety. Nervous energy. Fear. But why?

He picked up the Sheikah Slate, sorting through the photographs again, looking for anything that would clue him in on what had happened here to leave such feelings attached to this place in his mind. He came to the photograph of Princess Zelda in her white dress, sad, yet trying to smile. Behind her, he could see a goddess statue standing over the pool of water. Rock walls surrounded the pool, and a pair of waterfalls spilled down on either side of the statue.

Link frowned and lowered the Sheikah Slate to his lap. He often felt drawn to that image, especially on nights such as these, when he grew introspective. But what good did it do him tonight or any other night? He still felt that anxious sense of unease. He wanted to do something, yet nothing came to him. Outside of the small cleft in the rock, rain still fell, leaving the night nearly black outside of the small circle of orange light given off by his fire.

Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep, head lolling to the side, the Sheikah Slate still held in his hands. Outside, the rain eventually ceased and the clouds broke, revealing a brilliant array of stars in the moonless sky.

Distantly, past the fallen Citadel, past the raging volcano and the great river, across the green hills and fields, a princess watched her sleeping knight the best she could from within the place that was both her home and her prison. The beast that she kept at bay raged at the destruction of his blight—a piece of himself that he sequestered away in the Divine Beast upon his reawakening.

Both she and the beast were far more aware of their surroundings now, though she believed that he was still blind to the world outside of the castle. Though many things remained under his influence, her power kept him from the direct connection that he had when he first emerged. She did her best to keep him from sensing Link’s presence, for she feared the rage that Ganon would feel at seeing his longtime foe would be enough to break her hold over him.

To Ganon, he had long since won—the death of Link and apparent destruction of the Master Sword had all but guaranteed his victory, just as killing her would do the same. Zelda’s power would not hold him forever, and Ganon was patient. He pushed constantly against her power, testing her limits, waiting for her eventual moment of weakness. But still, she would endure.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

The bow string snapped, and the arrow flew forward, whistling through the air and between the trees before piercing the rabbit with a muted sound. Link held his breath from his perch on the tree branch, eyes focused on the small, unmoving form of the brown rabbit. Finally, he shouldered his bow, climbing down from the trees, and crossing the small clearing where he’d spotted the rabbit in the early dawn light.

Smiling with satisfaction, he picked up the body, walking back the short distance to his shelter, where he’d left his small fire burning. Once there, he set about to skinning the rabbit and cooking the meat, combining it with some other herbs and mushrooms he’d found while hunting. Soon, his small cave was filled with the sounds and smells of sizzling meat and boiling fat.

As Link ate his breakfast that morning, he found that, despite the warmth of the food, the odd feeling that he experienced the night prior never truly went away. He could distract himself from it for a time, but when he grew still again, the feeling of unease came back. It was like an itch that he couldn’t scratch. A memory that he just couldn’t recall. It continued on through the morning, well after he rejoined the old road.

By noon, he had emerged from the forest, leaving the valley behind. The air, he noticed, seemed even cooler today than it had been yesterday, and the wind picked up as he emerged out onto a gently upward sloped plain that appeared to continue on for miles around him, bordered by rolling hills. He drew his cloak more tightly around him.

He began to see the forms of broken Guardians littering the ground near the road. He saw one that was on its side, all six of its legs having been cut off. Another one lacked its head. Yet another one, strangely, had its eye pierced by one of its own legs. Each of the Guardians he saw had clearly been there for a long time, often covered in moss or old bird droppings. In one of the Guardians’ eyes, Link even found a bird nest that had been built in its empty cavity.

The presence of the dead Guardians alarmed Link, causing him to fear for Robbie’s life. Neither Impa nor Purah had spoken to Robbie in many years, though they both trusted that their old friend was still alive. However, after seeing the living Guardian in the Citadel, Link hoped that nothing had befallen the old Sheikah researcher.

He saw the stone quarry shortly after mid-day. The wind had picked up as the sun rose past its zenith and began to dip towards the west, and Link could see clouds gathering on the eastern horizon, over the distant sea that had only recently become visible between a pair of hills that he passed. He had almost ridden past it when a calling bird called his attention to the depression in the earth not far north from the path.

He gently pulled on Spirit’s reins, drawing the horse to a stop, and dismounted, wincing at the soreness that had started setting in again after two and a half full days of riding. After having a long time to rest and recover in Zora’s Domain and Hateno Village, he felt as though he could feel every new ache in his body that much more acutely than before. He patted the horse’s neck before taking an apple from his satchel, holding it out to Spirit, who took it eagerly.

After a moment of hesitation, Link grabbed his scabbard, slinging it over his shoulder before making his way over to the depression. Curiously, he peered down into the pit. It had tiered levels that made it difficult from his current vantage to make out the bottom. He found a place where the land sloped steeply, rather than dropped off, and made his way down onto the next tier down.

From here, he could see inside the enormous round pit that had clearly been cut out of the earth and rock by design. Piles of cut stones littered the ground below, and the walls showed clear signs of expansion, with sections that had been broken away. He could even see some rusted tools remaining—pickaxes and hammers. No people, though.

It was a stone quarry. A hundred years prior, perhaps, this place had been used to gather stone for construction. Perhaps for the Citadel. Perhaps for Hyrule Castle. Perhaps for any number of other locations or building projects around the land. But it, like so many other places, remained untouched now, after the destruction that had visited this land. Below, in the quarry, Link could see a fox cautiously poking its nose out of a small hole that it had found in the rock. Perhaps it had heard Link’s approach and was looking for the source of the sounds.

As Link looked around the quarry, the feeling of unease that had been plaguing him since the night prior returned in force. He felt almost sick to his stomach and grimaced, placing a hand to it. Why? Why did this place make him feel so disturbed? He reached out and touched the rock wall that surrounded the tier he was on. It was cool and solid under his fingertips.

He considered staying here to investigate it further. Perhaps he could discover what haunted him about this unusual place. But the dread that only grew in his heart would not be ignored. Ultimately, he chose to clamber back up to the ground above the quarry and remount Spirit. Perhaps another time, he reasoned. For now, he needed to get to his destination—preferably before night fell.

The sun had dipped below the mountainous terrain at the base of Death Mountain by the time Link arrived at his destination. The setting sun left the land in the colorful light of twilight, illuminating the clouds overhead in reds and oranges. As he rode east, he began to detect the faint scent of salt on the moist air, which only grew stronger as he approached the ocean. Eventually, he grew able to hear the sounds of the sea—waves washing up onto shore and seagulls calling overhead. As he crested one hill, he found himself looking down into a large plain that ended with a sandy beach.

Fascinatingly, he could also see a strange landmass in the water, just beyond the picturesque beach. A line of sand, rock, and grass that extended out into the ocean in a spiraling pattern before finally ending at the spiral’s center. Link wasn’t at all sure if it was somehow created naturally, or if it was made by design.

Link turned back up the incline, arriving at a small village that hadn’t been on the pre-Calamity map on his Sheikah slate. A small signpost just outside of the town announced the village as being called “New Kasuto”, which probably would have bolstered Link’s spirits had it not been for the village’s sorry state.

Many of the buildings that made of New Kasuto were built of weathered wood or stone that had clearly seen better days. Most of the roofs were made of thatch, and many of them had long since collapsed in on empty structures. Several of the structures remained upkept, however, and he saw trails of smoke rising from multiple homes.

His arrival garnered a suspicious response. Locals peered out of windows or stood in doorways to watch him as he led Spirit into the town. No one challenged him, however, as he reached the village’s center, where an inn and stable had been erected. It looked just like many of the other stables that he’d seen in his travels.

Are these all owned by the same person? The same organization? Link wondered as he looked up at the horse-headed structure. It could have been the Dueling Peaks stable’s exact match. As he pondered this, he heard footsteps behind him and turned, seeing with some surprise, a man dressed in a red tunic wearing what looked like an old soldier’s iron helmet. He held a halberd in one hand, using it like a walking staff as he approached.

“Haven’t seen a new face around here in a while,” the man said, walking up to Link and stroking his pointed goatee. “What brings you to the area?”

Link had left his sword strapped to Spirit’s saddle—a wise decision, he expected. This man certainly seemed more at ease than the man at the Dueling Peaks stable had been. “I’m here to visit with an old… friend.” It seemed strange for those words to come from Link’s lips. He had no real memories of Robbie, the old researcher that Purah spoke of. But he supposed there might be truth to the words, nonetheless.

“Oh? What’s the name of your friend? Perhaps I can help you find him.” The man spoke with casual ease, but Link could tell that this man had seen some combat in his time. His eyes held a sharpness that Link hadn’t often seen in other Hylians since he woke. The man was sizing him up, just as Link was doing to him.

“I’m here to see Robbie.”

“Old Robbie?” The man looked surprised at Link’s pronouncement, and a look of alarm passed over his face a moment later. “Nothing has happened to Granté, I hope?”

Link didn’t have a clue who this Granté was and his expression must have shown it, for the man’s expression became immediately more suspicious. The man gripped his halberd more firmly than before.

“If you don’t know Granté, then you must be a very old friend, indeed. Granté is Robbie and Jerrin’s son. You look to be about his same age…”

Link sighed. Was it always going to be like this? Perhaps it was the long days of travel, or just the experience of having his motives questioned again, but he felt increasingly irritable. “I’m older than I look. Look, is Robbie still living here?” Link glanced up, seeing a distant lighthouse at the top of a hill just outside of the town. His eyes widened with recognition. “Does he live in the lighthouse?”

“Well, why don’t we start with your name and then we can—”

“My name is Link,” he snapped, fixing his blue eyes on the man standing in his way. The man pursed his lips, clearly growing agitated as well. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted a second time.

“Did you say Link?” A new voice this time, causing both Link and the man with the halberd to look to the side, where a woman with blonde hair tied into a distinctly Sheikah top knot stood. She stepped forward, her keen eyes on Link, looking him up and down. The lighter blue of his Champion’s tunic was still visible peeking out from under his darker blue cloak.

“Ah, Jerrin,” the man said, turning to face the Sheikah woman, whose traditional Sheikah garb looked completely out of place. “Yes, this man just arrived, looking for you and your husband. Do you know him?”

Jerrin continued to look Link over before smiling and turning her gaze to the other man. “Not in the slightest!”

Link’s heart sank as the other man’s expression grew triumphant. He gripped his halberd might tightly and turned to face Link, likely to attempt to drive him out of New Kasuto.

“However, I can’t speak for my husband.” Jerrin reached out, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “And I’m very certain that Robbie would like to speak to this Link, either way.”

“I’m not so sure that’s wise. If he tries something—to attack you or do something to your research—”

“I’m here to talk to Robbie about his research,” Link protested, face growing warm.

“See?” Jerrin said. “It’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.” She patted the man’s shoulder before fixing Link with a warm smile. “Why don’t you go drop your things off at the inn? I need to do one last thing and then I can walk with you back up to the lighthouse. I’m sure Robbie will be happy to see you.”

The man—his name was Hoz—grudgingly accepted this, though his eyes remained suspicious. Link ignored him, however, and dropped his tired horse off at the stable. After some hesitation, he opted to leave his sword behind with his other equipment. He doubted that he would have a need for the weapon in the town, and it would make Hoz feel better, at least. He kept his Sheikah Slate and the broken Guardian sword with him.

When he rejoined with the woman, Jerrin, she was standing at the base of the hill that led up to the lighthouse at its summit. Over one arm, she had a basket with a number of fresh vegetables and a glass bottle of milk, and in her other hand, she carried a torch that burned with an odd blue flame.

“Oh good,” she said as Link walked up. She held the torch out to him, which he took, inspecting the torch with a frown. It seemed to burn far hotter than it should, and he was forced to hold the flame further away from his face than he normally might have. “Having you along will be a great help.”

“What, exactly, is this?” Link asked, eyes fixed on the blue flames.

“Oh, those are flames from the ever-burning fire on the Tumlea Heights,” Jerrin said as she looked down into her basket of vegetables, apparently counting the radishes within. “The rain last night doused our furnace, and those are the only ones that can get hot enough.”

This, it would seem, was a perfectly normal occurrence for the Sheikah woman. After digging around in her basket for a moment longer, she looked up at Link and smiled. “Link, was it?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Link said as they began to walk up the hill.

“I suppose you are the same Link that Doctor Purah and my husband spoke of from one hundred years ago?” The way she spoke was off-putting. It was light and airy, almost as though she was only paying him part of her attention.

“Yes,” he finally said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Purah sent us a message saying that you had awakened. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t even sure you truly existed until we got that letter. Or, at least, if you were still alive. They both claimed you were, though.”

He could recall his last meeting with Purah, which sent him off on this quest to find Robbie. She had sternly instructed him not to tell Robbie about her de-aging rune or the effects it had on her. She threatened to turn him into a toddler, if he did.

“She also mentioned something about your memories being lost.” Her words brought Link’s attention back to the present, and he looked at Jerrin. “Do you remember anything about my husband?”

Link felt a flush run up the back of his neck and shook his head. “I’ve only regained a few of my memories from before so far. I remember taking a photograph with him next to the lighthouse, but that is it.”

“A photograph?”

“Oh, uh,” Link glanced down at his Sheikah Slate and then at the torch in his hand. He smiled awkwardly at Jerrin. “It is a… picture. Like a painting, but true to life.” At her confused look, he shrugged slightly. “I can show you when we get there.”

“Of course,” Jerrin said, nodding. They both fell silent for a time as they continued up the hill, the climb at times growing steep.

As they passed a particularly thick shrub, Link noticed something on the ground, just off of the path. It was one of the flying Guardians like the one he’d seen at the Citadel, only this one was lying on its side, half-buried in the ground. Two of the limbs that the spinning blades were attached to had been broken off, while the third jutted out into the air. As a breeze blew across the hill, the blades spun lazily.

Link stopped walking, staring at the Guardian’s corpse. Its eye was not visible, seemingly buried in the dirt. Just seeing it, though, was enough to send a shiver down Link’s spine. This thing had once flown through the skies, controlled by Ganon’s power. Had it been responsible for the destruction of the ruined town of Kasuto? Had it fired upon fearful Hylians that should have been safe from its destructive power?

“Robbie said this one wasn’t worth the effort of digging it out from where it crashed, so he just left it here,” Jerrin said as she stepped up next to Link.

“How did it crash?”

“Oh, he did something to knock it out of the sky. I don’t really know. That was decades before I ever met him.”

“Robbie did this?” Link said, eyes widening as he looked back to Jerrin.

“He destroyed all of the Guardians that came around here. That’s supposedly why New Kasuto was founded all those years ago. Robbie was the only person around that knew how to fight the Guardians, and he was able to beat any of them that wandered too close.”

This information surprised Link and gave him hope. If Robbie was able to somehow defeat or dismantle these Guardians, then maybe he could teach Link how to do so as well. He did not know how many Guardians remained functional after the last one hundred years. It could be that the one flying around the Citadel was the only one left, but he doubted it.

They continued their walk up the hill until, finally, they reached its peak, and the old lighthouse. However, it looked very little like the lighthouse in the photograph on the Sheikah Slate. The top of the lighthouse appeared to have long since been removed, leaving the structure looking squatter than before. Several small wooden buildings that were little more than sheds had been added to its roof. There was also a massive telescope, just like the one atop Purah’s laboratory, and another piece of construction that Link did not recognize, composed of a metal arm and a rope extending down to a three-clawed hand that held a Guardian’s head suspended above the ground. A crane, as Jerrin called it.

True to her word from earlier, the building at the top of the hill was surrounded by Guardians. Or, at least, Guardian corpses. The great metal beasts lay in heaps and piles all around the old lighthouse. Some of them were whole, while others had been broken into pieces. He saw the six-legged variants, the flying ones, as well as several of the smaller Guardian Scouts that he had encountered in that first Sheikah Shrine. There must have been dozens of them, all lying broken and defeated.

Jerrin pointed Link to a strange round construction with a hole in its center and asked him to place the torch in it. It looked almost like a blacksmith’s furnace, and Link recognized it as being similar to the furnace outside of Purah’s laboratory. When Link placed the torch inside of it, the wood inside caught fire quickly, burning with the same blue fire that the torch had. The furnace began to glow with blue light from a series of Sheikah designs all over its surface, and he stepped back, gasping in awe.

The door to the old lighthouse was suddenly thrown open with a crash, and out stepped a short man, slightly stooped, with a shock of white hair that extended out from behind his head in every direction. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick goggles.

“Jerrin, good! You’re back. I need your help with a—”

The man stopped as he saw Link standing beside the furnace rather than his wife. He stared for a long time at Link, mouth agape. Link wasn’t even sure he was breathing anymore. Jerrin stepped slowly around Link, standing just a little bit behind him. Finally, the man whom Link was certain to be Robbie spoke.

“Take off your clothes.”

The silence that followed was only broken by the merry sounds of the fire crackling from inside the furnace.

“What?”

Robbie began snapping his fingers. “At least take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“Take it off! I need to see your scars to know for sure that it’s you.”

Link stared at the diminutive man in front of him, bewildered. This was Robbie? Had he gone insane in his old age? He had to be at least one hundred and twenty by this point. Likely even older if he was as renowned a researched as Purah indicated.

Robbie’s voice changed slightly, containing the hint of a pleading tone. “I just need to know for sure.”

Link stared at the man, who still hadn’t removed his goggles. Grimacing slightly, he unclasped the cloak and allowed it to fall to the ground. His tunic and undershirt followed, exposing the skin of his chest and back to the cool evening air.

Slowly, Robbie lifted his goggles, revealing red Sheikah eyes. His eyes traveled over Link’s bare chest, illuminated more by the glowing furnace than anything. Unfamiliar scars covered Link’s chest and back. Places where he had been cut, stabbed, or burned in a previous life. A particularly bad one marked his back—a massive spot of burned flesh in the rough shape of a many-pointed star. Robbie motioned for him to turn around, and he did so.

To his surprise, Jerrin stood only a few feet behind him. The basket had been placed on the ground, and now she held a short knife in her hand, looking quite ready to use it. Link could now see a small sheathe hidden among the vegetables in the basket. He met her eyes, startled by the dangerous look there, but she didn’t move or seem abashed in any way.

Behind him, Robbie spoke again. “You can turn around. Jerrin, it’s okay.”

Jerrin immediately relaxed, her expression brightening with a warm, almost motherly smile. It was a disturbing shift in emotions. He didn’t dwell on this, however, turning to meet Robbie’s eyes again.

“One hundred years ago, I personally laid you down in the Shrine of Resurrection. I know every cut, burn, and scar that you sustained in the battle against the Guardians.” Robbie’s voice shook slightly, and Link could see the shine of tears at the corners of his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again—I don’t even know if your body had any life remaining in it in those last moments.”

Robbie sniffled and suddenly rushed forward, surprisingly spry for a man so old. He wrapped his arms around Link, hugging him tightly.

“It’s good to see you again, Link.”

“Hmm, so you already managed to defeat the piece of Ganon in Divine Beast Vah Ruta? And from the way you described it, it sounds as though the Calamity Ganon somehow combined its power with our Sheikah technology. Fascinating. And terrible!”

Robbie sat on a chair just inside of the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, sipping at a cup of tea that Jerrin brewed for them. The brewing process had not been like other teas that Link had seen brewed. Instead, Jerrin had merely poured water into a small basin and pulled a lever. A few moments later, following a startling series of hisses and whirs, warm, amber tea poured out of a spigot into a kettle that she had placed underneath it.

The strange tea-making contraption was not the only piece of unfamiliar technology that Link found in the laboratory, however. Pieces of Guardians were placed everywhere—heads, legs, chunks of their bodies, even several of their blue eyes. He could also see what looked like pieces of armor that had been made from the same material as the Guardians, though they were clearly not complete yet.

The strangest thing in the room, however, had to be the stone figure in the center of the room. It was mostly cylindrical in shape, though it tapered in the center, leaving its body in two distinct segments. The uppermost segment was made into something like a head, with two small lines of blue formed to look like eyes. A pair of rings adorned either side of the head, as well as a thin rod sticking up from the top. Glowing blue Sheikah text formed a ring around its base. Robbie called it his Ancient Oven.

For all the strange technology that was placed around the room, it still bore a neat appearance, unlike Purah’s mess of a laboratory. Guardian pieces were placed on shelves, each meticulously marked. Various drawings and schematics hung from the walls or lay on tables, and Link saw several large and heavily-laden bookshelves. Fascinatingly, the room also had a full kitchen and a pair of beds that were chained to the wall so as to be able to be lifted into a vertical position.

Link lifted the tea to his lips, taking a cautious sip. His memories flashed back to the tea that Telma had given him in the Dueling Peaks stable, and he grimaced slightly.

“Don’t care for the tea?” Jerrin asked as she pulled up another chair to join them.

Flushing, Link shook his head quickly. “No, it’s great! I was just… remembering another type of tea I had once.”

“Oh, you’re remembering things?” Robbie asked. “Purah wrote in her letter that you had lost all of your memories. Of course, that’s what we theorized might happen based on our analysis of the Shrine of Resurrection. We had no way of proving that theory, of course, until you.”

“No, that’s not what I… Well, yes, I have begun to remember some things. Only specific memories so far, though—and only a few. They have been coming more regularly lately.”

“Well, you certainly found your way here without any difficulty! Do you remember visiting here with Princess Zelda all of those years ago?”

Link hesitated, not fully certain how to answer that question. Finally, he removed the Sheikah Slate from his hip, which garnered a gasp of recognition from Robbie. He navigated to the map screen and turned it so that Robbie could see.

“Purah gave me your location with this.”

“Ah, yes! A very useful tool for navigation, indeed. It wouldn’t have been difficult at all to make your way here with that.”

Link nodded and took it back, navigating to the photo gallery and sorting through them until he found the one he was looking for. The photograph with Robbie, Purah, and Princess Zelda, all gathered together in front of the lighthouse as it had once been, before Robbie had modified it.

He gazed down at the photograph for a long moment, as the memory played back in his head, clearer now than it had been then. He could remember taking the photograph, yes, but he could also remember Princess Zelda’s embarrassment. She hadn’t wanted to be in the photograph because they had been digging. Her hands, clothes, and even face were all smudged with dirt. Her hair braids had loosened around the crown of her head, leaving them hanging down just slightly over her forehead. Her eyes—they hadn’t changed, though. They shone with the excitement of a scholar in her element.

“Link?” Robbie said. Link blinked rapidly and looked up at him, confused. How long had he been staring at the photograph? At Princess Zelda?

Link cleared his throat and smiled, turning the Sheikah Slate around and handing it to Robbie. He took it, eyes widening as he looked down at himself. Jerrin leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder. She gasped.

“Oh, Robbie, Granté looks just like you! Look at you… When did you carry a sword?”

Robbie laughed delightedly, reaching up and placing a hand on Jerrin’s hand. “I always told you that I was quite the warrior once.”

“And I have never expressed any doubt about that.”

“Regardless, here is proof! I used to be a fine Sheikah warrior. I was blessed with the rare combination of both intelligence and physical prowess.”

“Hmm, yes, but you are, unfortunately, sorely lacking in humility.”

Robbie waved his hand dismissively and looked back down at the photograph, beaming. “We were so young then. Naïve, perhaps, but so hopeful. We knew that we couldn’t prevent the eventual return of Ganon, but we would make sure that we were ready to defeat him when he did.”

Silence fell among them as Robbie and Jerrin gazed down at the photograph, and Link thought about Robbie’s statement. How had things gone so wrong? Had he once been as hopeful as the three of them in that picture? Had he and Princess Zelda plotted together how they would defeat Ganon when he rose? Had they discussed what would happen after they succeeded? Had they even considered what might happen if they failed?

Robbie began to swipe his finger across the screen, flipping through some of the other photographs on the Sheikah Slate. For a brief moment, Link felt a rush of irritation at him for doing so. Those images were his, after all. It felt oddly personal—his journey with the princess. He attempted to banish the feeling with only partial success.

“Oh, she was so beautiful,” Jerrin said as Robbie arrived at another photograph.

Robbie didn’t immediately reply, frowning down at the image. “I recognize that location. Where have I seen it before?”

Jerrin looked at her husband and then back to the image, considering. A look of recognition passed over her face, and she patted Robbie on the shoulder. “The Goddess Spring. The Spring of Power. Remember—we went there once back before Granté was born because I thought there might have been a Shrine in that location.”

“Ah, yes! I remember.”

Link watched as the couple briefly reminisced before, finally, Robbie held the Sheikah Slate back out to him, which Link took and clipped back to his belt. He then unclipped the broken Guardian sword from his belt, holding it up for Robbie to see.

“This stopped working after my fight with the thing in Vah Ruta. Purah thought that you might be able to fix it. I’m not sure if my normal sword is going to be as effective against whatever is waiting for me in the other Divine Beasts.”

Robbie took the hilt, pulling his goggles down over his eyes, which seemed to be able to magnify his vision. He inspected it, turning the hilt over in his hands before looking back at Link, his red eyes appearing large and distorted through the goggles’ lenses.

“This is a Guardian Scout’s sword. Where did you manage to find this?”

“I fought one inside a Sheikah shrine in Hateno Village.”

Jerrin gasped sharply, jumping to her feet. She moved closer to Link, eyes wide with excitement. “You’ve been in a shrine? Truly? You must tell me what it was like. Why didn’t you mention this before?”

Robbie, for his part, seemed almost as excited as Jerrin, standing to his feet as well. “And you fought a Guardian Scout? This could prove my hypothesis. Quickly—what color was it? Did the lights on its body glow red or orange?”

Link, startled, looked back and forth between Jerrin and Robbie, the intensity of their inquiries making it difficult for him to focus. “I—uh—I think orange? Maybe? It turned blue when it saw me.”

“Yes!” Robbie exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air in triumph. “That’s it! Jerrin, did you hear that? The Guardians that are still locked away are outside of Ganon’s influence. If I can figure out a way to harness that, then maybe we can find out a way to turn them back!”

Robbie appeared to have forgotten Link’s inquiry entirely, turning and hurrying away to a desk, where he shoved papers aside to pull a blank sheet from a stack. He grabbed a quill from an inkwell and began to scribble notes at a blistering pace.

Jerrin pulled her chair closer so that she could sit across from Link, their knees almost touching. “Please, tell me everything you can remember about the shrine. Have you been in others?”

Link did as she asked, though he was interrupted multiple times by Robbie, who interjected with questions of his own regarding the Guardian that Link had fought. After his last interruption, Jerrin removed the small spoon that she used to stir honey from of her teacup and threw it at Robbie’s back.

They spent the next several hours poring over everything that Link remembered from the shrines—the strange puzzles, the reliance on the Sheikah Slate, the way everything seemed surreal and too large to be real. Robbie and Jerrin both paid rapt attention to Link’s descriptions, even going as far as to ask him to try to draw some sketches of what he remembered from the shrines. He did so, but it quickly became apparent that whatever skills he had from before, art was certainly not one of them. Jerrin soon took over, sketching to the best of her abilities what Link described.

It was exhausting work, and Link felt completely drained by the time they were finished. Surprisingly accurate sketches of the three shrines that Link had visited hung from the walls, which Jerrin now studied while wearing a pair of spectacles. Robbie had somehow filled out roughly a dozen pages of notes, which included various diagrams of Guardians and something that he called the molecular structure of the stone used for ancient Sheikah structures.

His sword had all but been forgotten until recently, when Link brought the subject back up. Robbie distractedly informed Link that he would craft him a much better sword than that “piece of junk” when he was finished. When Link finally took his leave of the pair, they were both still deep in their studies, occasionally trading notes or asking for each other’s opinion.

Link woke, sitting bolt upright in bed and looking around the still-dim room in the inn. Wasting no time, he got out of bed, pulling on his clothing, followed by his boots and cloak. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed his sword and the Sheikah Slate before sprinting out of the large open sleeping area. He retrieved Spirit from a sleepy-looking groom and mounted him, kicking the horse into a gallop.

The Spring of Power.

The sun had not yet risen, though the distant horizon over the sea had begun to lighten. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky overhead, and the stars were still visible. Death Mountain stood before Link as he galloped down the hill from New Kasuto, radiating with a dangerous orange glow. The lava flows down its side seemed even brighter than before, and the smoke rising from its mouth reflected the same color.

“I don’t even know if I want to go in there. What if nothing happens? There is only one more spring after this.”

The night air was cold, forcing Link to draw his hood up over his head. The wind was to his back and, at times, gusted even faster than Spirit ran. He wouldn’t be surprised if another storm passed soon.

“Let’s eat first. I’ll cook up a special meal for you. It won’t take long.”

He passed by a small stand of trees, startling a pair of deer. They called to each other in alarm before darting away, deeper into the trees. An owl hooted softly from a perch on a branch. A wolf howled in the distance.

“It’s strange to think that this place was once buried under all that rock. It makes one wonder what else is buried under our feet.”

He couldn’t push Spirit to sprint the whole way to the quarry—the run would likely kill the horse. The ride was about twenty miles, so he soon slowed Spirit to a trot, letting him catch his breath before pushing him back into a canter. Spirit had always been a strong horse, and this morning was no different.

“Let me take a photograph of you for once. It will be good to have a picture of you right before your powers awaken. Who knows how you’ll look after.”

The sun had risen over the sea by the time the quarry came into view, the depression in the ground barely visible from a distance. He kicked Spirit into another gallop, closing the last mile rapidly. Once there, he quickly dismounted, running on numb legs to the edge of the quarry. He stumbled and slid down the steep incline on his backside, but barely noticed, leaping back up and making his way down into the heart of the pit.

Link’s dreams that night had been anything but calm. When he closed his eyes, it had been like opening them again in another world. A world in which he and Princess Zelda had traveled together, side by side. He on a brown mare; she on a white stallion. At once, he had known when he’d been here before, and why being back here left him feeling so dreadful.

He picked his way through the quarry. It looked just like it had in his dream. His memory. Stone pillars and piles spread throughout the pit, each looking similar to the other. Still, though, it was not hard for him to find the one that they had sat down under to eat their meal.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link used a wooden spoon to stir the pot of stew that boiled slowly over the fire. For all his talk of making a special meal for Zelda before she entered the spring, the end result was less than spectacular. How was he supposed to know the sounds that normally came from the quarry had scared away all of the game from this area?

“Damn Gorons and their damn hammers,” he muttered as he lifted the spoon, glaring at the irritatingly thin soup. The Gorons weren’t there at that moment, of course. No, Link made sure to clear away all of the quarry’s workers the day before, ensuring that Zelda would have absolute privacy in her most intimate of moments.

He heard a snort of laughter from across the pot and looked up in surprise to see Zelda looking up at the sky, a small smile on her lips. That was good, at least. She had been so worried earlier. The worry was still there, of course. He could see it in her expression as clearly as he could see the colors that made up the twilight sky. But, still. She smiled.

“Do you want to try it?” Link offered, holding the spoon out for her.

Zelda turned to meet his eyes. The firelight made the green in her eyes seem more vibrant than ever. She quirked an eyebrow. “Is it edible?”

“My cooking is always edible.”

“Right,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s what you said last time.”

“You were the one who insisted that we eat a frog.”

“No, I distinctly remember insisting that you eat a frog.”

“Well, it was only fair.” He shrugged, smiling at the princess across the fire. She stared at him a little dubiously before finally leaning forward and taking a hesitant sip of the soup. She pulled back a moment later, considering it in her mouth before swallowing.

“It’s not bad,” she said, nodding.

Link frowned at her and then sampled the soup, grimacing. “It’s water.”

“Which isn’t bad.”

Link scowled at her before turning and rummaging through his pack for any other ingredients he could add. He wouldn’t have Zelda’s last meal before awakening her powers be so pitiful.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link blinked as he came back to himself, looking at the spot on the ground where both he and Princess Zelda had once sat, sharing a moment of peace before the turmoil. He smiled faintly, touching the same stone pillar that had glowed orange from reflected fire in his memory. She had joined him, sitting down beside him with her back to the warm stone. Together, they had looked across from the bright fire, to the dark entrance belonging to the spring. The Spring of Power.

Slowly, Link turned to look towards the entrance. It was brighter now than in his memory, lit by the morning sun and mostly hidden by hanging ivy. But in his mind’s eye, he could see the shadowy entrance. It had been so intimidating then. It still intimidated him now.

He took a step forward to enter the spring.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

"It's time." Zelda slowly pushed herself up from her seated position beside Link. Overhead, the sun had finally set and the full moon had risen, lighting the quarry in its monochrome light, giving everything a grey cast. The fire was still warm, however, giving off a small circle of color and light.

Link watched her as she walked to her pack, bending down and pulling out the white garment that she wore while in prayer. Her priestess dress. It was a beautifully crafted dress that almost seemed to shine in the silver moonlight.

Zelda looked back at Link and gave him a solemn look. "I'm going to go change." She turned to look at the stone archway that led into the spring and hesitated. She bit her lip. "I will just go around those rocks over there."

Link watched her disappear behind the rock, frowning. He stood, stretching and wincing at the soreness in his lower back. He hadn't wanted to move until she did, but sitting against the rock for so long was uncomfortable. He began to put away some of the cooking implements that he'd used.

A rustle of cloth alerted him to Zelda's presence behind him, and he spun, seeing her carefully pick her way across the stony ground. Gone were her comfortable travel boots, trousers, and long sleeves. In their place were thin-strapped sandals, an ornate strapless dress held in place by a blue and gold belt, and golden jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her hair had been shaken free of its braids and tucked behind her long, pointed ears.

A lump formed in Link's throat as he took in her appearance. She was so beautiful, yet so very wrong.

He had grown to hate seeing her in this dress.

Clearing his throat, Link bent down to pick up the Master Sword in its scabbard, though he did not slip it onto his back. Its weight was, perhaps, too much at that moment. He saw her eyes follow the sword's movement—a reminder of her own failure.

"I can go with you, if you'd like," he said, his voice too loud in the suddenly silent night. Even the fire's crackling had died down. She met his eyes and nodded. Turning together, they both walked to the stone archway.

They walked into the dark hall and into a circular chamber with natural rock walls. There was no ceiling, allowing the natural moonlight to filter down, illuminating the room. Ivy grew in long vines down the walls, crisscrossing and clumping together to give the spring a look that suggested that it just happened to be formed like that naturally. Several waterfalls splashed down into the pool of water that filled the center of the room.

Link could have believed that the room was just a naturally-formed pond were it not for the stone archway they passed through upon entering the room, and the double lines of broken pillars outlining an ancient walkway to a large statue of the Goddess Hylia in the center of the pool. The statue was illuminated by the moon overhead, giving it an ethereal cast.

They both stepped onto the stone platform that faced the statue. Zelda wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself. It was a cool night, despite the summer warmth of day. The water would almost certainly be freezing, however. Link looked quietly around the room, keeping an eye out for any threat that could have been lying in wait for them.

He finally turned to face her and inform her that she should be safe, but then he saw her expression. Anticipation. Worry. Fear. He saw no hope in those eyes. Gripping the hilt of the Master Sword tightly in a white-knuckled grip, his mind desperately cast about for some way to ease her burden. There must have been something he could do.

An idea struck him, and he stood up straighter. "Wait here. I need to get something."

"Link, what—"

"Just hang on!" Link didn't give her a chance to reply and hurried back out of the spring, leaving the Master Sword leaning against the archway. He went straight for her bag, hoping that she did not mind him digging through her things. He emerged a moment later, smiling, and hurried back into the Spring of Power.

Zelda gave him a confused look as he held up her Sheikah Slate. She usually did not go anywhere without having this device strapped to her hip, taking photographs of just about every mundane thing that she could see.

"I'm not really sure how the Sheikah Slate is going to help me in my prayers," she said, giving him a skeptical expression.

"It's not to help you with your prayers," Link said, adopting a tone of confidence. "I want to take a picture of you."

Zelda frowned at him and then looked down at herself, in her dress. "You… want to take my picture?" She looked back up at him, incredulous. "Now?"

"Well, yes."

"Link, I don't think that now is really the best time for that. I need to get started on my prayers." She looked back towards the goddess statue. "I already waited too long as it is."

"What, do you think the Goddess is on a tight schedule?"

"Link."

"Look, let me take a photograph of you for once. It will be good to have a picture of you right before your powers awaken. Who knows how you'll look after."

Zelda opened her mouth but hesitated, meeting his eyes. She looked between his face and the Sheikah Slate in his hands. A moment later, she frowned. "Wait, what do you mean by that? How I'll look after?"

"What does it even look like, having your powers be awakened? If you're the incarnation of the Goddess, then who is to say that your appearance isn't going to change? Maybe you'll be… glowing. I don't know."

The corners of her lips rose slightly.

"You've seen Impa's tapestry. That did not really look like you, so who knows what you'll look like. I'm still waiting for my hair to turn red."

Zelda snorted with suppressed laughter and shook her head. "You do not place much value in art, do you?"

"I am mostly valued for my abilities to hit things with a sword, so no."

"I would say that you're valued for more than that." An uneasy silence fell between them. Zelda's cheeks grew red. After a moment, Link cleared his throat.

"I'm going to take your picture now."

He lifted the Sheikah Slate, pressing the camera rune, and finding Zelda on the screen. She took a step back, smoothing out her dress and reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She lifted her chin and, after a moment, smiled, though the smile did not completely reach her eyes.

Link pressed the button on the screen and, a moment later, the image of Zelda had been frozen in place on the Sheikah Slate, softly illuminated by the moonlight overhead. As he gazed down at the image, he heard the swish of fabric in front of him. When he looked up, he saw that Zelda had turned again to look at the statue.

He slowly lowered the Sheikah Slate, looking at her back. He found that he did not have any other words to say. He had tried to cheer her up, to give her some hope of success, but what little he'd accomplished seemed to have been taken away just as quickly.

Finally, she spoke. "I am going to begin my prayers."

Link exhaled, turning to walk back out through the stone archway, as he had done at the Spring of Courage, waiting just outside of the stone serpent's maw to give her privacy. "I'll be just out here, if you need me."

"No," she said, stopping him. He looked back at her, confused. Zelda turned her face just slightly towards him. "Please stay."

Link hesitated only a moment before nodding. He clipped the Sheikah Slate to his belt and retrieved the Master Sword from where he'd left it, taking up a sentinel position at the edge of the porch. Behind him, he heard Zelda slowly enter the pool of water.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Not much had changed in the last one hundred years. Link slowly stepped through the outer arch, walking through the stone cave and entering the spring through the inner arch. As he gazed around at what must have once been a beautiful place, he was only struck by how broken it was. This place fell into ruin long before the Calamity.

His eyes met those of the stone goddess. What had it been like for her that night? To stare up at those lifeless eyes and pray for a power that Link knew would not awaken for some time after. Memories began to play in his mind, unbidden. He didn't want to see this. It was too private.

Taking a step forward, he entered the water, gasping as the chill water penetrated his boots and pants almost immediately. He kept going, however, wading through the depths to where she had stood so many years ago.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The full moon had moved across the dark sky overhead in the hours since Zelda began her prayers. Link stood at the edge of the pool, hands folded over the pommel of his sword, eyes forward and looking through the archway into the dark quarry just outside. He could hear her forming the words at the end of her prayer behind him—a quiet plea for the Goddess to awaken the slumbering power hidden within.

His body ached from remaining in this position for so long, and he could only imagine how she felt. The water, he expected, was cold, and the cool breeze that swept down into the chamber certainly did not help matters. Zelda must have been miserable, yet she continued to pray, so he ignored the aches and continued his silent watch.

"I come seeking help regarding this power that has been handed down over time." He heard Zelda beginning her prayer anew behind him and winced. "Prayer will awaken my power to seal Ganon away… or so I've been told all my life." That was new.

Frowning, Link glanced over his shoulder at Zelda. She still stood in the water before the statue of Hylia, hands clasped over her breasts. Though the water only reached her hips, her hair was long enough that it just barely brushed the pool. As he watched, she slowly unfolded her arms, easing them down to her sides, hands in the water.

"Yet Grandmother heard them—the voices from the spirit realm." Zelda's shoulders slumped, and she looked down. "And Mother said that her own power would develop within me. But I don't hear or feel anything!" She looked back up at the stone visage of the Goddess, raising her hands in supplication.

"Father has told me time and time again—he always says, 'Quit wasting your time playing at being a scholar!'" She paused, and Link held his breath. "Curse you." Zelda slapped her fists down into the water, bowing her head. "I've spent every day of my life dedicated to prayer. I've pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods, and still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion."

A lump formed in Link's throat as Zelda wrapped her arms around herself. He could see her trembling now; whether from cold or emotion, he didn't know. How much longer would she subject herself to this agony? It hurt Link just to see her go through this—what must it feel like to her?

"Please, just tell me. What is it?" Zelda only hugged herself tighter, curling up while still standing. Her hair slipped around her shoulders to hang loosely over her face, golden locks dipping into the water. "What's wrong with me?"

A bolt of lightning shot down Link's back. He stiffened, eyes widening. Releasing the Master Sword and allowing it to clatter to the ground, he turned, stepping into the pool.

It was like ice. They may as well have been in the Hebra Mountains for how cold it was. And she had stayed in there for hours.

Startled out of her misery, Zelda whirled to face him. Her skin was pale; her lips a shade of blue. "Link, what are you—"

"You've been in here long enough. Come on, let's go start the fire up again and get you warm."

"No, I must keep praying," Zelda said, shaking her head.

Link approached through the water, breaking the silence of the night with his loud sloshing.

Zelda's eyes were wide, and her voice lacked any real conviction. "Link, if I have any hope of awakening my powers, I must continue to entreat the Goddess. Surely she is merely waiting to see proof of my devotion."

"Zelda, if the Goddess still needs proof of your devotion, then she is as blind as that statue." His voice contained a surprising amount of bite, even to him. Zelda looked taken aback, glancing towards the statue in horror. Link took a deep breath, moderating his tone. "I'm sorry, what I meant is that I'm sure the Goddess values both your devotion and your sense of self-preservation.

"You're going to freeze if you stay in here any longer. You need some rest, too. You're exhausted." Link held out a hand to her. "Come on. You've done all you can tonight. You can try again tomorrow, if you want."

Zelda looked at him and then at his hand, biting her lip. She glanced once more back towards the statue of Hylia and sighed. Bowing her head, she reached out and took Link's hand, allowing him to lead her out of the spring.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link stood in the water, looking up at the statue of Hylia. Truth be told, he still didn't know much about the religion that Princess Zelda and, presumably, he subscribed to. He knew nothing about Hylia, though he saw her statues often enough to know that both the Sheikah and Zora still worshipped her. After experiencing that memory, however, he wasn't sure he wanted to know more.

"Why?" he asked, looking up at the statue. "Why make her experience that?" He could still hear the pain in her voice. He could see her tremble. "Had she done something wrong? Was she made unworthy, somehow?"

Link's expression contorted into a scowl, the emotions of his memory mixing with those of the present day. "Because, the way I see it, all of this is your fault. Zelda—Princess Zelda—worked so hard all her life to awaken her powers, but you refused to grant them to her.

"Impa told me—her powers only awakened after everything else was lost. The Champions were dead. I had fallen. By waiting until the last moment, you doomed us all." Link pointed in the general direction of the castle. "And now she's there, waiting for me to somehow pull this off."

He thought back to the fight in the Divine Beast. The creature had nearly killed him—would have killed him, if it weren't for Mipha's lingering power. How would he fare against the others without Mipha by his side? She had given him her powers, but he had no true concept of how to use them. The one time he'd tried to use them—after getting scraped by a tree that he rode past in Zora's Domain—he had been unable to get them to work. So what was he supposed to do?

"It wasn't her fault," Link said, his thoughts turning back to Princess Zelda. The memory had been so raw, leaving him feeling drained after witnessing it. "She blamed herself, just like I've been blaming myself since waking. But the fault doesn't lie in either of us, does it?"

He frowned up at the goddess statue, as silent now as it was one hundred years ago. Finally, he turned away in disgust, sloshing back through the pool to the stone landing. Once back in the quarry, he set about to make a small fire using the various sticks and branches that he found lying around, likely blown into the quarry from storms. He was eager to get back to the Ancient Tech Lab, but he would prefer to ride with dry boots, at the very least.

The sun was at its peak when he arrived back to New Kasuto. His entrance to the village was greeted more warmly than before, at least, though only a few of the villagers were present, as most were out working in the small fields. He made his way up the hill to the seaside cliff that the old lighthouse sat upon.

As he approached, he noticed that Robbie was outside, goggles pulled down over his eyes as he looked critically at a glowing spherical object. He was standing beside the head of a Guardian that was lying on its side. A compartment had been opened there, revealing a shadowy interior.

His footsteps caused Robbie to look up and around, spotting Link. He raised a hand, waving emphatically. "Just in time! I've been tinkering with this all night." He held up the sphere for Link to see. "This is a Guardian core. It provides power to the Guardians, as well as houses their core functions. Speaking with you last night gave me some new ideas, so I'm going to conduct an experiment. You should stay!"

Link shrugged, hardly desiring any questions about where he had been, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to watch Robbie's experiment.

"Good!" Robbie said, growing excited. "Then you stand right there—yes, there. A little further to the right. My right. Right there." Link obediently moved until he was standing right before the inert Guardian. Robbie grinned in a slightly disconcerting way and plunged the Guardian's core into the compartment. It took him a moment before he got it set in its place, but a moment later, he closed the compartment and did something else on the bottom of the Guardian's head.

Suddenly, the Guardian's eye turned on, shining with brilliantly blue light. Link took a step backwards, feeling the back of his neck break out in a cold sweat. The eye looked around before settling on Link. The Sheikah markings around the base of the head suddenly flashed with red light, and the blue of the eye began to shine brighter. Link could hear a hum originating from the Guardian that steadily grew stronger.

"Robbie?" Link said, his own voice rising in pitch. His heart began to race and his palms grew immediately sweaty. He reached back, unsheathing the sword from his back. No matter where he moved, the Guardian's eye tracked him, growing brighter and brighter. The hum kept getting louder as well. "Robbie!"

The Guardian's eye dimmed to black again, and the red lights on its head faded away. Link watched the Guardian warily, waiting for it to turn back on and attack. The attack never came, however, and Link could see now that the door to the compartment had been reopened. Robbie pulled the Guardian core back out, inspecting its glowing surface. Link could see that some of the previously orange lights on its surface had turned red.

"Corrupted," Robbie said as he turned the sphere over in his hand. "Though it is not as complete a corruption as before. That is something."

"It was about to attack me!" Link said, walking around the base of the body to face him. He really just wanted to be away from the eye, in case it turned back on.

"Well, of course it was. That's why I asked you to stand there. It is difficult to detect the corruption, unless it spots a target. And since the original corruption gave the Guardians an overriding command to find and eliminate you and Princess Zelda, I felt certain that having you in its sight would give me some additional data with which to study Ganon's corruption."

"That's… great, Robbie. I'm glad I could be of help," Link said, trying hard not to feel irritated with the scientist. He wasn't so different than Purah in this way. Even after one hundred years, they both loved science for the sake of science.

"Good! I'll let you know if I do any more experiments. For now, though, I believe Jerrin was hoping to speak with you. There is a shrine not far from here, so she is hoping that you can access it."

Link thought that she might want to go down into it, much as Purah had, and grimaced. In his experience, shrines were far from safe places. Perhaps he could convince her to wait outside while he cleared it of any threats. He asked Robbie for the directions and began walking along the edge of the cliff, noting various Guardian parts arranged in mangled piles along the way.

Far below, the waves crashed against the rocky cliff face. Link glanced over, seeing a series of jagged rocks jutting up from the dark waters. He looked out to the ocean, spotting a few distant islands, but no ships. Did Hylians sail? He tried to focus his mind on the thought but came up empty. Certainly, the lighthouse must have served a purpose in the past, though, didn't it? He wondered if anyone sailed these waters now, after the Calamity.

He continued on his way around a small grove of trees until his destination came into view. A Sheikah Shrine lay half-buried by a mound of earth and grass. Jerrin stood at its base, several pieces of paper in hand. When Link came into view, she smiled broadly at him, looking every bit a child excited by a sweet treat.

She's definitely going to demand I take her down, Link thought, somewhat glumly.

The shrine did not end up being as complex as some of the others Link had visited, and it, thankfully, lacked anything that overtly tried to kill them. The trial within had forced Link to rely heavily on the Magnesis rune, which had fascinated Jerrin, though not nearly as much as the sheer scope and majesty of the shrine had.

In an effort to keep Jerrin from sketching every detail of the shrine as they progressed, Link took photographs with his Sheikah Slate, promising to let her examine them and make sketches after. Once they reappeared several hours later, standing on the circular platform just outside of the shrine, Jerrin immediately set about writing her experiences on her paper. She, apparently, could not wait to get back to the lighthouse, lest she forget any small detail.

Smiling faintly and thinking of the photograph he had of Robbie, Purah, and Princess Zelda, all dirty but thoroughly pleased with themselves, Link walked alone back to the Ancient Tech Lab. Robbie had, apparently, retreated back inside with the coming evening. Link knocked before slowly pushing the door open, looking around.

When he didn't immediately see Robbie, he stepped inside. "Robbie?"

He received no immediate response, but now that he was inside, he could see a subtle change in the room. The statue in the center—the thing called the Ancient Oven—seemed to be more active than it had been the night before. Its eye-slits glowed more brilliantly than before, and Link noticed a new line of blue that crossed the body just beneath the segment that made its head. The rings on either side of its head spun slowly, and Link noticed a soft hum originating from it.

"Robbie, are you here?" Link called again, frowning at the Ancient Oven. It was trembling slightly as well. Hesitantly, Link reached out and touched it with his finger, finding the black surface to be warm.

"Hey, hey… FamiliarNameMissing." A voice suddenly emitted from the Ancient Oven, causing Link to jump back in alarm. The voice was strange and synthetic-sounding, speaking with a strange monotone pitch that Link couldn't determine was supposed to be a male or female voice. Other than the voice, the Oven hadn't changed or moved, and it continued to hum softly. "Please wait. Your—" It beeped and whirred for a moment. "Ancient sword is still in the works."

Link heard footsteps coming from the floor above him, and he took another step back, looking up at the ceiling. "Robbie?" The footsteps paused. Link wasn't quite sure if he wanted to ask the question or not. "Is your Ancient Oven supposed to be talking?"

"Oh, don't mind her! Cherry is just glad to be working again." Robbie's voiced called from the room above. A moment later, Link heard his footsteps on the stairs and he emerged, holding a basket full of what looked like pieces of scrap metal.

"Cherry?"

Robbie swore and looked around, eyes widening beneath his goggles. He apparently did not find what he feared, however, and sighed in relief. "I mean the Ancient Oven. Cherry is an… old name that she used to have." Robbie continued down the rest of the stairs before sighing heavily, letting the basket fall to the ground. He groaned, placing a hand on his back and stretching. When he stopped stretching, he smiled toothily at Link. "I'm glad you woke up before this old sack of flesh gave out."

"How old are you, anyway?" Link said, curious.

Robbie grinned at him, taking a deep breath before striking a strange pose, legs spread, one hand on his hip with the other pointed into the air. "Why, I just turned one hundred thirty-six! I look good for my age, don't I?"

"Is it… normal for Sheikah to live that long?" Link said, thinking about the shriveled Sheikah in the shrines. Did Sheikah live as long as Zora?

"Oh, it's not uncommon for full-blooded Sheikah to live until one-fifty or so. Some live to be older." Robbie bent down to pick back up the basket of scrap with a grunt, walking over to the nearest desk, lifting the basket onto it. "We live longer than you Hylians." He paused for a moment before looking back at Link. "Though I think you'll probably outlive all of us old Sheikah."

Before Link could express any doubts about that, the door to the lab burst open, and Jerrin rushed inside, hurrying to her desk. "Robbie! You will never believe what I saw."

She launched into a brief, but detailed narrative of their journey through the shrine, which Robbie only seemed to pay half a mind to as he scribbled some of his own notes down on a piece of paper on his desk.

Link watched the couple for a time before turning and walking slowly around the room. He came across a portrait that hung off the wall above the small kitchen that showed the two of them, along with another man who looked to be a teenager. Their son, he assumed. Granté.

"Robbie, do you know what this means?" Jerrin said, her voice excited. Link glanced back just in time to see her look around at her husband, only to find him muttering to himself as he inspected what looked like a Guardian's eye. Jerrin picked up a piece of chalk and threw it across the room, lightly hitting Robbie on the shoulder. He gave a start, looking around with wide eyes.

"Oh! No, what does it mean?"

Apparently satisfied by his renewed interest, Jerrin continued, her expression intent. "I think it means that the Sheikah Shrines are not entirely located in our realm. For the Shrine to exist beneath us, it would require the entire hillside to be completely hollow, and I was not even able to see a true ceiling."

She fished within a small pocket just inside of her coat, pulling out a small piece of rock. "However, it is a physical place in reality. See? I brought this from within the Shrine. I was able to break it off of one of the walls." When had she even done that? Link never recalled seeing her chipping rock off of a wall.

Robbie's interest peaked now, and he walked over, taking the stone from Jerrin and lowering his goggles over his eyes, inspecting it. "So what are you theorizing, dear?" he asked as he turned the stone over in his hand.

"I am not entirely sure, but I think Princess Zelda's earliest theories might have been right."

Link's breath caught at the mention of her name. He took a step towards Jerrin and Robbie now. "Princess Zelda's theories?"

"Yes, she theorized that the Sheikah Shrines existed in an alternate plane of reality to our own, in something that ancient texts refer to as the Sacred Realm." Jerrin shook her head, looking amazed. "Her theories about them were shockingly accurate. It is actually difficult to believe that she never stepped foot into one."

"She didn't?"

"Nope!" Robbie said, holding the stone back out to Jerrin. "She tried to get into them several times, but she never could get that Sheikah Slate to work."

"Then how did she know anything about them?" Link asked, frowning.

"How else?" Robbie said. "She studied. The old castle had thousands of books and ancient texts in its library, and I think that Princess Zelda might have read each and every one them.

"Still, though, details of ancient Sheikah technology are scarce—usually only fragments that have somehow survived the millennia through imperfect copies. She worked with our scholars to try to unearth every fragment she could, though."

"Oh, to have access to that library," Jerrin said, sighing. "What additional secrets might we find hidden away."

"What happened to it?"

"We're not sure," Robbie said, frowning. "No one dares to approach the castle any longer. Not with the Calamity still flying around it. Not to mention the Guardians."

A chill ran down Link's spine at the word. "So there are still living Guardians in the castle as well?"

"Guardians aren't alive," Robbie admonished, looking at Link with an expression that Link thought might have actually been disgust. "They're machines! Constructs."

"Functioning, I mean. There are functioning Guardians within the castle?"

"Oh, yes." Robbie turned in his seat, picking up the inert Guardian eye. "And they fire on anyone they can get their sights on."

Link grimaced at the unpleasant image this conjured up in his head. He would have to face those Guardians eventually, even if he managed to free all four Divine Beasts. Perhaps Robbie's research would turn up something useful in taking control of them again, or at least disabling them.

The Ancient Oven suddenly chimed merrily and a compartment on its front, just beneath the new seam of blue light, opened. Steam hissed out of the opening.

"Ahh!" Robbie said, hopping off of his chair and hurrying over to it. He reached in, smiling, and pulled out what looked like a strangely-designed sword hilt with a lopsided cross-guard. Rather than a blade, it had a pair of strange pieces of Sheikah-designed metal that extended out about as long as the hilt. The metal pieces were each connected to a circular piece at the end. "Here!"

Robbie handed Link the strange object, and he took it, turning it over in his hands. He found a small switch reminiscent of that of on his broken Guardian sword and pressed it.

The thinner of the two metal pieces whipped up until it formed a much longer rod with the other piece. The circular piece that connected appeared to be a hinge of sorts. With a brilliant flash, a glowing blue blade of energy hummed to life along one edge of the rod, extending just past it to end with a point.

Link exhaled slowly as he examined the sword, noting that it glowed with a brighter light than his Guardian sword had. It had more weight to it as well, with the metal rod providing some counterbalance to the hilt, which Link greatly appreciated. Overall, it felt sturdier than the Guardian sword had.

He thumbed the switch off, and the blade disappeared. The rod folded in half again, returning to its inactive state. Link looked at Robbie and smiled broadly. "It's perfect, Robbie."

"Well, of course it is," Robbie said, smugly. "I made it." Jerrin snorted in playful derision, which caused Robbie to whirl around and give his wife an irritated look.

"We made it," Jerrin said, smiling with the same smugness that Robbie had. "In case you had forgotten in your old age."

"You assisted with its refinement, yes, but I crafted Ch—the Ancient Oven long before you ever were introduced into my life."

Link couldn't help himself but to smile at the continued banter between Robbie and Jerrin. Though there appeared to be a large gap in ages between them, they clearly cared for each other. Link wondered at how long they had been married. Decades, most likely, considering their adult son.

Absently, he thought back to his memory of Princess Zelda. They had bantered like this.

"Very well," Robbie finally said with an air of exasperation after Jerrin made another retort. He looked happy, though, as he turned to Link. "We made it. Based entirely on my designs and decades of prior work; but, yes, we made it. And I think you will find that to be far more durable than those Guardian swords."

"Thank you," Link said as he slipped the new sword into his belt. "Is there anything else you might be able to provide me? The creature in Vah Ruta was…" He grimaced. "Difficult to overcome."

"Well, I've been attempting to create some armor that should prove resilient to Guardians' blasts—"

"Really?" Link said, eyes widening. If he had that, then perhaps his future excursion into the castle would not be nearly as suicidal as he feared it might be.

"Well, yes," Robbie said, expression falling some. "But it is not quite where it needs to be yet. As it stands now, it can either be light and largely ineffective against Guardian fire, or it can protect you, as long as you don't need to actually move anywhere very quickly." At Link's confused expression, he continued. "I have found that, to achieve the level of protection needed, the entire armor set would likely weigh over three hundred pounds."

Link grimaced, and Robbie nodded.

"So you see why it still needs some work. Still, though, I have some ideas. It will be my primary focus now that you've awoken." He turned, walking over to a small chest that had been placed against a wall.

"However, in the meantime," he said as he bent down and opened it. He stood back up straight with several thin rods with fletching at one end. Link thought that they were arrows, but they were unlike any arrows he ever recalled seeing. The opposite end was covered in a thick device of sorts. It actually looked a lot like the two metal rods on Link's sword, though shorter in length.

Robbie held the small bundle of arrows out to Link. There were five of them. Each of them was heavier than a normal arrow and definitely weighted to the front. "I call them Ancient arrows. They are just like your sword, only these will activate when drawn on a bow." He winked at Link. "The trigger mechanism is in their nocks. Pretty clever, huh?"

Link turned one over, looking at the small notch in it, just beneath its fletching. He couldn't see anything that looked like the switch on his sword, but he trusted that Robbie knew what he was talking about. "What will they do?" Link asked, thinking to the shock arrows that he carried.

"Besides kill just about anything they come in contact with?" Robbie said, smiling broadly and placing his hands on his hips. "When they strike a target, they will burst with the energy of a Guardian's beam. I am not certain if they will destroy a fully functioning Guardian with one strike, but they will greatly damage it. I think you'll find them to be effective against these creatures within the Divine Beasts."

Link looked up at Robbie, smiling in gratitude. "Thank you. Truly. After facing the last one, I didn't know how I was going to destroy the others. These should help."

"I'm sorry that I can't provide more. Had I known you would be coming, I would have been spending the last few months creating as many ancient weapons as I could. I've been trying to perfect a new type of bow that will be capable of shooting the ancient arrows as straight and true as any other arrow, but it's not quite ready.

"I do not know when you will be able to make your way back here, but I will set to crafting as many of the weapons as I can. Whatever I can provide to help you save Princess Zelda."

"That's not a problem," Link said. "Now that I've activated the Sheikah Shrine, I can use the Sheikah Slate to teleport back here at will."

The explosion of questions that erupted after this statement startled Link, though, in hindsight, he probably should have expected it. He did not emerge from the lighthouse until well into that night, long after both Robbie and Jerrin had experimented with the teleportation rune, and Jerrin had a chance to make her sketches of the shrine from the photographs that Link took.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty

“Now, if you have any problems with that sword or the arrows, you come right back here,” Robbie said as Link placed the wrapped bundle of arrows in the saddlebags—they were much too large and unwieldy to place in his quiver with the other arrows—next to the fresh salted meat and vegetables that he had purchased in town. “They are sensitive, fragile things, made of many moving parts and components—not like a piece of iron.”

Link would rather not think of his weapons as fragile. They needed to be sturdy and capable of both attack and defense. But Robbie assured him that the sword, at least, would be far more resilient to punishment than the Guardian sword had been.

He wore the Champion’s tunic on the day of his departure, Impa’s words of providing hope to those who recognized it ringing out in his head. Robbie certainly knew it—he once saw Link dressed in this tunic over one hundred years ago, on this very hill. It was a sobering thought, yet it also made him stand just a little taller.

“Thank you for your help,” Link said as he finished strapping down his equipment. “If I see Purah or Impa before your message arrives, I’ll make sure to pass it on.”

It was time that the three Sheikah elders met once more, Robbie had told him. Their self-imposed exile served its purpose. They each managed to survive the last century, each having passed on what he or she knew to Link after he woke. Now it was time to look to the future. Robbie recommended they both make a journey to his home before the end of spring so that they could begin the next phase of their plan, whatever that may be.

He was comforted to know that he wouldn’t be the only one acting. Still, it was time to get on with his own mission. Death Mountain loomed far over the mountains to the west, and the smoke rising from its open maw seemed thicker and blacker now than before. It was a cause for concern, especially considering Robbie told him that the volcano had last been this active in the year leading up to Calamity Ganon’s return. Link hoped that his detour to better prepare himself would not result in disaster for others.

He and the Sheikah pair said their good-byes, with Link promising to keep Jerrin informed of any new shrines that he encountered. She had hoped that he would travel with her to another shrine a three days out of his way, but he refused as politely as he could. It had already been too long since he freed Ruta as it was. With one final wave, he spurred Spirit into motion, riding out of the small ramshackle village of New Kasuto.

After he left the town, he took the southern road instead of riding back the way he came and towards the quarry. The memory still fresh in his mind, he wished to avoid being anywhere near that place for the time being. Perhaps he would try to revisit it another time to see what other memories might surface, but for now, he wanted to keep moving.

As he continued down the gentle incline, he rode past farmland where residents of New Kasuto worked the fields. Several of them looked up at him as he passed, but none stopped him or called out. The people here, like in many other places in Hyrule, were unaccustomed to seeing strangers. Merchants like Telma seemed to be the only tenuous links that existed between the scattered residents of Hyrule.

Thinking on the boisterous red-haired woman made Link feel anxious for her safety. She was the first person that he’d really met after waking. He had seen no sign of her on the road since they parted ways at the Dueling Peaks stable. She had headed in the direction of Zora’s Domain, but in all of the excitement of the Divine Beast, he hadn’t even thought to ask them if she had made it safely. The eastern road that led north alongside Hyrule Field did not seem as infested with monsters as he had initially feared, but the stable that he had met Kass at certainly indicated that it wasn’t always as safe as he had found it.

As he rounded a bend in the road surrounded on either side by rock walls, the scenery opened up to reveal an open field, miles wide, without a tree in sight. To the east, the ocean stretched on to the horizon, and Link could see that strange spiral-shaped patch of land that he’d noticed before. A herd of wild horses grazed in the field not so far from the road.

He could tell from Spirit’s gait that the horse wanted to pick up the pace, to run in the open field, and Link couldn’t blame him. He gave the horse his head and leaned low as they broke into a gallop, leaving the road behind and running out into the field. The wind blew his hood back and caused his hair to stream behind him. A flock of cranes took flight, startled by the galloping horse.

As they raced across the land, joy bubbled up from Link’s stomach and soon he was grinning and laughing. Thoughts of duty and past failures fled, and he enjoyed simply being in the moment, feeling the wind and the sun on his face and smelling the sea air. He whooped loudly, which only seemed to spur Spirit on faster.

Their gallop lasted for a surprisingly long time. Previously, when Link had pushed him, the horse had shown good endurance, but no horse could run at full speed for more than a few miles at a time. This time, however, Spirit maintained his gallop across the entire field, seeming to relish in the salty sea air and the feel of grass under his hooves. What should have taken them several hours to cross ended up taking less than an hour. Perhaps the field was smaller than it initially appeared.

When, finally, Spirit slowed to a walk, his sides heaving with deep breaths, the ground had begun to steadily rise again. He climbed off of the horse’s back, patting the his neck with pride. Spirit had certainly earned his rest. Surprisingly, after nearly an hour of galloping, Link didn’t feel sore, either. If anything, he actually felt looser and more rested than he’d felt in days. They had, apparently, both needed to burn off some tension.

After giving Spirit a carrot from his pack, he walked over to a small rise, taking a seat in the grass. He pulled out some of the fruits and vegetables that he’d received from the village to eat.

“Did we see this, when we came here before?” he wondered aloud. Spirit snorted and bent his head low to eat a patch of grass, having finished his carrot. “Not you. I mean me and Princess Zelda. Princess Zelda and I.”

He stared out at the ocean. “Zelda and I.” Something about saying her name made him feel a rush of… what? Warmth? More than that. It made him feel nervous, too. An excited sort of anxiety.

Link sighed and fell back so that he was looking up at the blue skies. “Goddess, it’s like with Mipha all over again. What did I feel for her? She was a princess.”

A princess that I traveled with alone. A princess that I called by name. A princess that sat beside me for warmth and comfort. A princess that I was sworn to protect. He didn’t like the uncomfortable feeling that settled into the pit of his stomach at these thoughts and closed his eyes.

Link’s eyes opened at a particularly sharp tug of his hair, revealing a bright, though noticeably cloudier sky overhead, and the long face of Spirit directly over him. The horse had a lock of Link’s hair in his mouth, along with a tuft of grass. When he met the horse’s eyes, Spirit snorted a blast of hot breath into his face.

Groaning, he pulled his hair free, rubbing his scalp, and pushed Spirit’s face away from his. He sat up and looked around the open field. He must have fallen asleep, lulled by the warmth of the day and the distant sound of waves. He hadn’t slept long, judging by the height of the sun. An hour or two at most.

He noticed that the grass around him was much patchier than it had been when they arrived, and gave Spirit a sidelong look, single eyebrow raised. The horse, for his part, simply pulled up another tuft of grass, ignoring him.

“You’re a glutton,” Link said, pushing himself to his feet. “Worse than me.” Brushing the grass off of himself, he sighed and looked around at the field around him. He could see the herd of horses that he’d seen earlier. They seemed curious about him, but also wary, staying close enough to watch him, but far enough to be able to bolt if needed.

After stretching, he rolled his neck and looked back at his horse, clicking his tongue. Spirit did not respond. Frowning, he clicked his tongue again. Again, the horse ignored him, quite happy to graze.

Link walked over to Spirit, taking the reins and pulling the horse’s head up to look at him. “We’ve been working on this.” He patted Spirit’s neck before releasing the reins and making a circle around the horse to ensure he still looked healthy and whole. He really should have inspected his horse after their long gallop.

Finally satisfied, he mounted Spirit with a grunt, taking the reins in his hands. He clicked his tongue once more, only for the horse to ignore him for a third time. “You’re the one that wanted to run so much. I didn’t make you do that. Now, come on.” He nudged Spirit with his feet, and finally, the horse stopped grazing and began to plod back towards the road.

The day’s travel continued uneventfully after that. He observed their location with his map, choosing to avoid the path that would take them down into the wetlands. That road would take them right alongside the Citadel, and its Guardian. So, when they came to the fork in the road, he opted to turn left and continue south, their elevation steadily climbing.

According to the Sheikah Slate’s map, this area of the Akkala Highlands was not largely inhabited one hundred years ago. There looked to have once been a small settlement further to the south, but it was still a ways off. So that was why, as the sun began to set over the mountains to the west, he was surprised to find a place lit by torches and lamps, and what appeared to be a familiar-looking house in the process of being built.

The strange sight was a little off the road, on a large island spire in the middle of the lake that made up half of the Torin wetlands. The island was accessible by a natural land bridge that connected it to this side of the lake. The vegetation on the bridge had been cleared away, and he could see cart tracks leading from the road to the bridge.

The island had, likewise, been cleared of vegetation, and a multi-story house had been framed. Several tents stood off to one side, near stacks of construction materials, along with several wagons, and a number of horses and mules. The other side of the island, however, held a number of large boulders and stone outcroppings that he imagined would prove very difficult to build around.

He eased Spirit to a stop as he reached the bridge, frowning as he looked across to the strange construction that seemed so out of place in this otherwise deserted location. As he watched, several men walked into view, each wearing a colored vest. At their head stood a man that he recognized—tall and broad-shouldered, with a mop of black hair and an equally thick mustache. Hudson of Bolson Construction. From Hateno Village.

“What in Hylia’s name…?”

He guided his horse across the bridge. At the entrance to the construction site, a pair of posts had been driven into the ground on either side of the bridge, with a sign hanging between them. The sign had no words on it, however, and it just served as an arch to pass under.

As he approached, the group of men that had apparently just sat down around a fire to eat their evening meal stood, looking wary. None of them were armed, while Link was, perhaps, too armed. Hudson walked forward, looking up at him with a frown. Finally, he said, “Mister Link?”

“Hudson, right?” Link said as he dismounted. “What are you… doing here?”

“Building.”

Link looked at the tall man, amused by his short way of speaking. It could be difficult to get a sense of what he was thinking behind the thick mustache and beady eyes. “Well, yes, I can… When did you get here? I just saw you in Hateno Village.” And Link had the advantage of instantaneous transportation through the Sheikah Slate.

“About two days ago.” That would mean that they had been just a day behind Link on the road. They had probably left right after he bought the house in town. “I think we should have that house finished in another two days.”

“But no one lives out here,” Link said, still confused.

“We do.”

“So you quit working with Bolson and decided to move out here?”

Hudson looked surprised at this, looking back to the other men that were observing their conversation. He looked back at Link. “No.” At Link’s silence, he continued. “Bolson asked us to come here.”

“‘Build it, and they will come!’ That’s what the boss said,” said one of the other men. Link thought that he might recognize him from his evenings staying in the inn when he first arrived to Hateno, but he wasn’t sure.

“You’re just building out here in hopes that people will move here?”

“Yes,” Hudson replied. “And no.” He paused, seeming to consider for a time. Apparently deciding that more words were needed, he continued. “Bolson heard that some people were hoping to move out here. Some people from Hateno and Lurelin.”

“He sent you out here to build houses for them?”

“That’s not a house.” Hudson looked back at the building being constructed, and Link noticed his posture change slightly. He stood up a little straighter. Prouder. “That is the new headquarters for the North Bolson Construction Company.” The other construction workers all beamed at his mention of the name.

Link was not a businessman. He was fairly certain that he hadn’t been one in the past, either. Still, this all seemed to be a very high-risk operation to him. Then again, he had met Bolson. The man could be… eccentric.

“But why set up here? Why not New Kasuto?”

“Bolson liked the location.”

Well, Link supposed that was as good a reason as any other. And he had to admit, though, that this was probably a better place for a construction company to set up shop. New Kasuto had a few small groves of trees, but it was largely fields and farmland. This side of the Akkala Highlands, however, was much more densely forested. Still, he wasn’t sure about the viability of this business expansion of Bolson’s.

There was an awkward pause as they both looked at each other, each waiting for the other to continue the conversation. Finally, Hudson silently motioned towards the cook fire that he and his men had set up for their evening meal. Link smiled and nodded, equally as silent.

As they ate together, Hudson and his crew explained in more detail what, exactly, they were doing here. It would seem that a wealthy man and vineyard owner from Hateno Village had spoken to Bolson of his desire to move out to the Akkala Highlands in order to recover some land that once belonged to his ancestors before the Calamity. The man had agreed to finance an expedition into the Akkala Highlands, including the construction of several homes for him and any employees that he brought with him.

Bolson, seeing an opportunity, decided to expand on the original investment. Rather than merely build a vineyard, he imagined something far grander. A new settlement. The first new Hylian town established in nearly one hundred years. An entire town built by the newly established North Bolson Construction Company, with Hudson at its head.

There was, of course, one little snag.

“We need a Goron,” Hudson said as he ate some of the stew that they had made.

“A Goron?” Link asked, looking up from his own bowl, spoon in one hand.

“A Goron.” Hudson lifted the bowl to his lips, tilting it back and finishing off the remains. Some of the stew dripped from his mustache when he lowered the bowl. “Those rocks are a lot worse than we were expecting.”

“When Bolson told us there would be some rocks that we had to clear, we were thinking some, well, rocks,” said another of the Bolson Construction employees named Nelson. “Not huge boulders the size of houses!”

“We just don’t have the manpower to clear them,” Hudson continued, nodding towards Nelson. “It would take months, even with everyone back in Hateno Village, and we don’t have the necessary tools or materials. With just us, it could set Tarry Town back for…” He looked around at the other construction workers. “Years. Maybe longer.”

“But a Goron could help?”

“Well, yeah,” Nelson said, excitably. “They’re the experts when it comes to rock-breaking, right?”

Hudson sucked his mustache and nodded. “A Goron or two could do it easily. I was thinking about sending some of the Sons up to the mountain and see if they could find any willing to work with us.”

“The… Sons?” Link asked, frowning.

The crew shared silent looks among themselves. Finally, Hudson cleared his throat. “You… didn’t notice?” At his confused expression, a few of the other men started chuckling. “It’s one of the most important policies that we follow at the Bolson Construction Company. All employees must have a name that ends with ‘-son’.”

Well. Link supposed that, in the face of the continued downward spiral of civilization, there would always be some oddities that might crop up. The stress could make anyone crack.

“So, if I wanted to join your team—”

“You couldn’t.”

“Because my name isn’t Linkson.”

“I suppose you could choose to change your name, but…” Hudson considered for a moment, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think the boss would like that. So no. We appreciate the offer, though.”

I wasn’t offering, Link thought with a small smile. But, out loud, he said, “I’m actually going to be heading up to Death Mountain. I’m on my way there now. I can ask if any Gorons would be interested in coming down to help.”

Hudson rubbed at his mustache in thought, squinting at Link over the fire. Link, for his part, wasn’t quite sure why he was under such scrutiny. Finally, the tall man nodded. “I can’t offer you any pay since you aren’t an employee. But we would be very grateful if you were able to find any Gorons to assist us.”

“I’m not asking for any—”

“As long as their names adhere to standard Bolson Construction Company naming guidelines.”

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“Right. Well, if I come across any Gorons who are interested in helping and have names that end in ‘-son’, then I’ll make sure to send them your way.”

“Great!” Hudson said, clearly pleased by this turn of events. The corners of his mustache, which covered most of his mouth, rose in a smile. “In that case…” He rose from his seat, walking over to a nearby barrel. He grabbed a couple of mugs off of its lid. As soon as he did so, the other men around the fire quickly jumped up, hurrying over to him. After a few moments of busy commotion, Hudson walked back to the fire, holding two large mugs full of amber liquid, while the others busily filled their own mugs at the cask.

“Got to ration this stuff, since it’s all we got, but since we’re entering into a mutually beneficial business arrangement, it seemed like the right time.” Hudson held the mug out to Link, who took it warily. He wasn’t actually sure how this business arrangement was in any way mutually beneficial.

Hudson smiled broadly and lifted his mug to his lips. After a moment of hesitation, Link did the same. The ale burned on its way down, forcing him to suppress the urge to cough, before settling in his stomach with a pleasantly warm sensation. It had a distinct honey flavor that was very pleasant, indeed.

He took another drink.

“So, I don’t have any idea how in the goddess’ name I’m supposed to kill a giant pig demon!” Link said, gesticulating with his hands. The other men had gone off the bed, leaving Hudson and Link the sole individuals left by the dwindling fire. “But I’ve got to. For her.”

“Well, you have to find a way to save her,” Hudson said, nodding sagely.

“Exactly. I mean, I can’t leave her trapped in there with it, right? I am—or was, I don’t know—her knight! And maybe her friend. I think we were friends. I don’t know. I wish I could remember more of the damned past.”

“I don’t remember a lot of my childhood.” Hudson lifted his mead to his lips, finishing off his mug. “Apparently I fell off a tree and hit my head. Mama said I barely made it.”

“I hate not remembering anything. It feels like I’m missing a part of myself. I can’t help but to think that, if I remembered everything, this wouldn’t be so bad. I would know just how to defeat it.” Link paused, frowning. “Right? I had to know how to defeat it back then. I couldn’t have been walking in completely blind.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You killed the thing in Zora’s Domain.”

“Yeah, by sheer happenstance. If Mipha hadn’t been there, I’d be as dead as...” He trailed off, grimacing. “I don’t know.” He paused, looking down at his empty mug. How many drinks had he had? He couldn’t remember. “You know, I keep thinking that I heard Zelda talk to me while I was in Zora’s Domain, after freeing the Divine Beast. I could almost swear that I heard her while I was sleeping, but she hasn’t answered me since.”

“Maybe you were just dreaming.”

“It didn’t feel like a dream, though. I’ve had dreams about her, too, and it wasn’t the same.” He groaned and set the mug down, leaning forward and placing his head in his hands. “I could have sworn she was there. Right next to me.”

Hudson blew a long breath out through his mustache. “Sometimes I dream I have a woman next to me while I sleep.”

“That’s not—I mean, I don’t think that’s what I—” Link hesitated, shaking his head. His vision briefly grew blurry before sharpening again. “Regardless, it’s just… I have so many questions that no one seems to want to answer.” Or that he was afraid to ask, if he was being honest with himself.

Their conversation continued for several more minutes before, finally, Hudson rose, groaning slightly. He walked over and placed a large hand on Link’s shoulder, patting it. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” With that, he turned and walked off to lie down in his tent, not even bothering to remove his boots or vest.

Link sat there for a time, staring into the fire. Finally, he stood unsteadily. He blinked bemusedly as the world wobbled and spun around him. How much had he drunk? When equilibrium steadied, he carefully made his way away from the fire, a hand to his forehead. He approached his bedroll, which had been placed on a patch of grass opposite the construction workers’ sleeping area.

As he removed his tunic and trousers, he couldn’t help himself but to look up at the sky overhead. The lamps had been doused, and the crescent moon overhead only provided so much illumination. He thought that he could see millions of stars overhead, stretching on for as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful.

He looked around and saw the shadow of the Akkala Citadel, silhouetted by the orange glow of Death Mountain. He was close enough to it again that it rose high in his vision. A spire of death and destruction. A place where Guardians still lived, still flew. Still searched for him. It sent a chill down his spine, making him wish he was still sitting beside the fire.

He lay down, snuggling into his bedroll and trying to get comfortable. It was difficult, as he found that the patch of grass upon which he’d set up his things hid several small rocks that all seemed to find their way to various points on his back, shoulders, and buttocks. He sighed and set about to trying to clear the rocks away.

Fire.

Everything was burning.

Everyone was dying.

He stood alone in an open circle surrounded by buildings aflame. Distantly, he heard screaming. People in pain. His people. He whirled around, looking for someone—anyone—that he could save. But he saw nothing but a city in flame.

“Where are you?” he called, eyes wide with panic. Where was his family? Where were his friends? Where was his princess? “Answer me! Where are you?”

More screams. More terror. He broke into a run towards an alley, but the fires spread to engulf it before he could reach it. For a moment, he thought he saw a face—a girl, several years younger than he, with blue eyes—but then she was gone. Consumed by the blaze.

He turned, sprinting the other way. Another alley. Another way out. But it, too, burst into flames as he approached. He heard the sounds of metal clanging against metal. Men screaming as they died.

“Where are you!?”

“Link!” A voice. His princess. Zelda.

He turned, eyes wide, looking for her. She had just been with him, hadn’t she? When had he lost sight of her? He sprinted around the large circle. In the center of it was a broken fountain that had dried up.

“Princess!”

He heard a scream. A terrible, awful scream. It made his blood run cold.

“Zelda!”

Something crashed behind him, and he whirled, eyes widening in horror. Six legs, each long and flexible, climbed over the rubble and bodies of its fallen brethren. It stood over him, and he was too weak to run anymore. He barely stood, leaning against his sword. He could no longer fight, but he would face death on his feet.

The blue eye found him and flashed red with recognition. It began to charge its beam, and he screamed in furious denial. The eye fired. He burned.

He bolted upright in his bedroll, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic. For a moment, everything still burned around him. He could see that terrible blue eye looking down at him with the intent on ending his life. But then it was gone, and he was still on the island that had been named Tarry Town. He placed a hand to his chest, feeling the way his heart raced. When he pulled his hand away, it came away wet. He was drenched in sweat. His hair, free of its ponytail, stuck to the sides of his face. His bedroll was soaked.

Shakily, he stood. The weakness that he felt made him think of how he’d been in the dream—barely able to stand, using his sword to support his weight. Grimacing, he reached up, brushing sweaty bangs away from his eyes before making his way over to a water barrel that belonged to the carpenters. He ladled some water into his mouth before pouring some over his head. The chill water helped sober him, driving the lingering effects of the dream from his consciousness.

He took another deep gulp of the water before stepping away, placing a hand to his forehead. It had been so real. He felt the heat of the fire. He felt the terrible blast from the Guardian strike him. Had it really happened? He hoped it truly was just a dream, and not a memory of the past.

Slowly, he stepped forward, all thoughts of returning to his bed forgotten. He would not be sleeping any more this night. And it was still night, he saw. The moon had moved inexorably closer to the horizon, but the sky had not yet begun to brighten with the coming dawn. The night was cool, but it felt good, for the moment, on his bare chest.

He stepped around a small outcropping of rock, sitting down on it and looking up at the sky overhead. Millions of stars dotted the night sky, as far as the eye could see. Seeing them now, he realized that he could pick out a few constellations that looked familiar to him, yet he didn’t know their names or significance.

With a quiet voice, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping men, he said, “Can you hear me, Princess?” He got no response, though, outside of a distant bird’s call. She was probably trapped in the castle, unable to see or hear. Imprisoned by Ganon.

“Princess?”

Nothing. He could remember the panic he’d felt in the dream. He’d needed to see her. Needed to know she was safe. Was she safe now?

“Princess Zelda.”

Still nothing. He wished he could forget her scream. That awful sound pierced his very soul.

“Zelda.”

A whisper on the wind. Quieter than a breeze through tall grass. If there had been any other sounds, he wouldn’t have even heard it. But he did.

“Link.”

For a time, he sat in silence, breath caught in his throat. Had he really…? It seemed too good to be true. Wishful thinking. And then he heard it again.  Her voice.

“Link.”

“You can hear me? You can speak to me?” He spoke in a slightly louder tone now, hoping to get a reply, but dreading that he might not.

“I can, but…” There was a pause and, when she spoke again, the voice stronger than before. “My time is limited. My strength is not what it once was, and I fear that, should Ganon discover that you live… It already rages about the destruction of its creature in Ruta.”

“Are you all right?” The words seemed foolish the moment they left Link’s lips. How could he ask her if she was all right, after all she had endured for the last one hundred years? Considering what she endured, even now.

“For the time being, I am still able to hold him at bay. I hold the power of a goddess, after all.” He thought that he could detect a note of bitterness in her tone, but it was difficult to tell. After a moment, she spoke again. “What of you, Link? I have witnessed much of your journey. I have seen that you have begun to regain some memories. Do you remember much?”

“Too little,” he whispered, looking down. “Fragments. Events. I saw… You. At the Spring of Power.”

“Yes… I remember. I had wondered if that’s why you went there.” Princess Zelda paused for a time before speaking again. “That was a difficult night, but it wasn’t all terrible.”

He thought of the laughter they’d shared over their supper, their banter, and the warmth of her body next to his. No, it had not been all bad, though those things seemed small in light of the rushing disappointment that followed. He’d accomplished little to change the evening’s trials.

“What else do you remember?”

Link exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Bits and pieces. Some of my time in Zora’s Domain, with Mipha. Flashes of other things. Places I’ve been. People I may have known.” Link fixed his eyes on a distant point on the horizon, trying to imagine for a moment that he could see the princess standing before him. “It’s all jumbled, without any context to tell me when they happened or where they took place.”

“My own memories are like that somedays,” she said. She could have been right beside him for how close her voice sounded now. “Sometimes, I can remember things with such clarity that I almost feel like… myself. Other days, I barely have any concept of who I am. On those days, there is only the struggle against Ganon.”

“I am so sorry, Princess,” Link said, dread filling his heart. “I wish I could remember more—to know where I could have done more to stop all of this from happening.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Did he detect… mirth in her tone? “It is largely because of you that this world still lives.” She must have been able to see Link’s confused expression, because she continued before he could reply, speaking more quickly now. “I am afraid that I do not have time to explain at this moment. I am not entirely certain that I even could. I can feel Ganon pressing against my barrier once again.

“But, Link, know that seeing you alive, hearing that you are recovering your memories, and witnessing your victories against Ganon’s creatures… These things give me hope. They give me strength. I may not always be… available to speak to you like this, and I am sorry. I know that you are still confused, but, please, be strong. Have faith that all will be revealed in time.”

“I will,” Link said, frowning into the night air. “I’ll find a way to get you out of there.”

“I know you will.”

He felt a shift in the air that seemed to signify that Princess Zelda’s presence had left him. She had gone, seemingly retreating back to the castle in order to prevent Ganon from using her distraction in order to break free of her prison.

With a grimace, Link leaned back on his hands, looking back up to the stars. He remained there until dawn, watching silently as the sky gradually lightened and the stars faded from view.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-One

“Don’t forget the Bolson Construction naming conventions,” Hudson said as he looked up at Link, who sat atop Spirit. “I’m sure you’ll find a Goron that meets those requirements.”

Link, for his part, was not very sure of that at all, but he nodded in agreement to Hudson, anyway. “If I find anyone, I’ll tell them all about Tarry Town,” he said, giving an amused smile.

Behind Hudson, the construction workers already started working again. They woke with the first rays of sunlight, ate a quick breakfast of salted fish, and got right to it. One of them—Link thought his name was Matheson—predicted rain later in the day, which sent the crew into a kind of working frenzy. Apparently, he was never wrong about this sort of thing.

“Thanks, Link,” Hudson said, the corners of his bushy mustache rising in a smile. “You know, I thought you were pretty strange back in Hateno Village. But now I see you’re a pretty good guy.”

Thanks, I guess? Link thought. Verbally, he said, “Well, great. Good luck with Tarry Town. I’ll make sure to stop by when I visit the area again.” He leaned down, grasping Hudson’s outstretched hand, shaking it briefly before sitting back up and clicking his tongue, urging Spirit into a slow walk across the bridge.

Once free of the bridge, he rejoined the old road, turning south and beginning the climb back up the hill. As he climbed, he looked back over at the small town in its infancy. As strange as the men founding it were, seeing it lifted his heart. As far as he had seen, the only new settlement created since the fall of Hyrule had been New Kasuto, and that town had been founded by the families of the soldiers that fought and died at the Citadel. It was a town founded by refugees. This new town—assuming it would eventually grow large enough to be called that—was something else. Founded, not off of tragedy or even necessity, but out of hope. A wealthy Hylian’s hope for new riches and Bolson’s hope for renown, true, but hope, all the same.

It seemed a good omen for Link as he continued on his journey to Death Mountain and the Divine Beast Vah Rudania.

Matheson’s predictions came true by midday as a blustery rain blew in from the west, accompanied by strong winds. As Link made his way across a bridge, leading Spirit by the reins on foot, the rain wall hit, immediately soaking him through. Having begun to grow used to getting rained on while traveling by now, Link donned his cloak, cinched the collar tight, and raised the hood. It did little to keep him dry, however, as the bridge passed close by a waterfall originating from Zora’s Domain that sprayed him with mist, in addition to the rain falling from the sky.

The rain did not abate until after he eventually made camp a few hours later, after trudging across the series of bridges that spanned the South Lake Akkala and Akkala Falls. When he finally did decide to rest for the night, he managed to find shelter under a small overhang in the cliffs surrounding Zora’s Domain. Unable to find any dry wood, he was forced to go without a fire that evening, but that served him just fine. The cleft in the rock that he’d found was right across from the old Akkala Parade Ground.

As the sun set, he kept his eyes on the towering Citadel, watching for any signs of the remaining Guardian he knew was still active up there. To his dismay, he did eventually see the flying Guardian that still circled the structure, and it was not alone. When shadows overtook the Citadel, the colored lights on the Guardians’ bodies became more pronounced, revealing to Link that at least two of the six-legged walking Guardians remaining active, stalking around the fortress like they were on patrol.

It made his stomach twist in fear and anticipation. None of them ever appeared to notice his small, huddled form so far away, but regardless, he was grateful to mount Spirit again the next morning and make his way away from the Citadel. The overcast sky overhead promised more rain.

Spring in Hyrule, it seemed, was a very wet season, indeed.

Later the next day, he approached the fork in the road that led up towards Death Mountain. Gratefully, he patted Spirit’s neck, whispering his thanks for the horse’s perseverance. It had rained again—several times—as the morning transitioned into the afternoon. They still had plenty more to traverse before the day was up, but he felt that this would be as good a place as any to rest for a time.

He dismounted off Spirit’s back, grimacing at the soreness that had already begun to set back into his legs. His wet clothes hadn’t helped any, leaving him able to feel the multitude of places that were chafing underneath his tunic and trousers.

“It’s just… a wonderful day,” he said, removing the cloak from his shoulders and draping it over a low hanging tree branch. After a moment of hesitation, he removed his tunic as well, twisting it tightly in an attempt to wring the water out of it. “Honestly, I can’t imagine a better couple of days for travel.”

Spirit responded by snorting and bending down to eat a tuft of grass.

“Right. Good idea.” Link removed his sodden boots and socks and began to walk around, looking for the means to make a small fire. It would be nice to try to dry off some before getting back on the road. Unfortunately, the rain appeared to have fallen here just as heavily as it had in the Akkala Highlands, and it hadn’t been clear or warm enough to dry anything enough to make use of. The day had warmed enough, though, that Link didn’t feel terribly chilly, even bare-chested as he was.

After eating a small meal, he removed his sword from the saddle, unsheathing this silver Zora weapon and admiring its surface. This, at least, seemed perfectly fine with the wet weather he’d been experiencing. He imagined that it would be completely impervious to rust and water damage, considering where it had originated from.

He walked over to a small clearing away from the road and Spirit. Once there, he took up a swordsman’s stance, smiling as his body responded naturally. It knew exactly what to do, even if his own memories of learning such things were non-existent. As he began to go through the motions of the forgotten kata, he found his worries of the day fading away. His mind felt clearer than it had since speaking with Princess Zelda two nights prior, allowing him to reflect from a more detached perspective.

He supposed that speaking with the princess as he had should have brought him some peace and comfort, but it had only left him feeling more conflicted, highlighting the gulf that separated them now, both in body and mind. It was clear to him how dedicated he had been when they traveled together—he had been passionate about his duties as her protector. Though he had few memories of those times now, his heart still remembered that dedication and respect he had for her.

There was, of course, something else. He would be foolish to deny that he had felt something more for Princess Zelda than just duty and dedication alone. His memory of the Spring of Power provided plenty of evidence for that alone. They had been friends, and Link thought that there could have been more that he felt towards her. He supposed it wouldn’t surprise him if he found out that he once had feelings for the princess—she was a beautiful woman, indeed. They had traveled together, too. Seemingly alone.

The thought made him feel suddenly flush, and he renewed his efforts to engage with his kata, swinging the sword in a variety of single and double-handed flourishes. A light sweat broke out on his forehead, plastering a few loose strands of hair to his face. The light breeze that blew across him felt pleasantly cool.

It was strange to him, the way he was reliving his memories. When he saw them, he did not see them through the eyes of an outsider, but from his own perspective. Yet once removed, it felt like he was reading a book with the pages scrambled. He had little context for any of these things. He knew things that he directly reflected on in the memory—there were three springs. The Spring of Power, the Spring of Courage, and another spring. He only knew of the location of the Spring of Power, though he distinctly recalled thinking of their time at the Spring of Courage during his memory.

It was frustrating. The fragments of memory that he saw contained smaller fragments of other memories, leaving tantalizing hints at previous experiences with no way to follow those teases to their conclusion. Even his memories of Mipha and Zora’s Domain were woefully incomplete, though his time there had certainly helped him piece some of them together to form a larger picture.

He set his jaw, beginning to move faster than before, grunting with the exertion of his swings and thrusts. Part of his mind raged at the injustice of it all. He was no naïve child. Even without his memories, he knew that good would not—could not—always prevail over evil like in children’s tales. Yet this still felt so wrong. They were not supposed to have failed in the way they did. And whose fault was it? He wouldn’t believe that it had been Princess Zelda’s. Not after what he’d witnessed in the Spring of Power. Had it, then, been his? Had he not attained what he was supposed to attain—the Master Sword? And his skills with the blade were apparent, even one hundred years later. So then who? Whose fault could it—

A woman cried out in terror, breaking his concentration. He grew aware of his surroundings again. The clouds overhead had broken in places, giving way to shafts of golden light that brought out the color of the grass and trees. His body was covered in a layer of sweat from head to toe. And there was a woman in filthy traveler’s garb sitting on the ground in front of him, a look of fear in her eyes.

Blinking in confusion, Link stepped back, glancing briefly at his sword. He hadn’t—no. His sword bore no blood, and the woman didn’t show any immediate signs of being wounded. How had she approached without his notice? Had he been so focused that he’d shut out the world around him completely?

“I’m sorry, I was… distracted. Are you all right?” He turned the sword over, sinking it into the wet earth point-down and stepped forward, holding his hand out to help the woman to her feet.

The woman looked up at him with some fear, eyes darting from his face to his extended hand. “I tried calling out to you, but you wouldn’t answer me. I thought that maybe you just didn’t hear me, but even when I stood right in front of you…”

He grimaced, feeling his face flush. “I was very distracted, it seems. I’m sorry if I scared—you aren’t hurt, are you?.”

“Not by you, no,” she said before, finally, accepting his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. He noticed immediately that she was favoring one leg, and he frowned.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I…” The woman grimaced and looked down at her own feet. “I was traveling on the road when a nearby lightning strike spooked my horse. She threw me and bolted. I think that I must have sprained my ankle when I fell.”

“Sprained your ankle?” Link asked, thinking of the healing abilities given to him by Mipha. “Do you need me to look at it? Maybe there is something I can—”

“Oh, no, sir!” the woman said quickly, eyes widening. She hobbled a step back from him, hands up. “It’s quite all right. I only came over because you are the first traveler that I’ve seen on the road for the last two days. I have been trying to make my way up towards the trader’s outpost at the foot of Death Mountain, but it has been slow moving because of my ankle. I had hoped that you might be going in that direction.”

She was a clearly skittish woman, but he could hardly blame her. With a sudden flash of embarrassment, he thought of how he might look. He had been swinging his sword around like, well, a trained killer, nearly taking her head off in the process. To make matters worse, he had taken off his tunic, leaving his multitude of scars visible for the woman to see. It must have taken a great deal of courage for her to even approach—he’d seen no sign of her presence when he arrived in the area.

“You’re in luck,” he said, forcing up what he hoped would be an encouraging smile. “That is exactly where I am headed. I will be happy to help you get there.”

“Really?” Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank the Goddess. I did not know what I would do if you chose to pass me by.”

He felt dread in the pit of his stomach and didn’t want to imagine what could have happened to this woman if she had approached someone else. He moved past her carefully, so as not to appear threatening, and pulled his tunic from the tree branch, slipping it back on over his head. When he looked back at her, she inspected the tunic with a curious expression.

“Such color. I imagine that you must have had that dyed in Hateno Village,” she said.

He glanced down at himself, and the blue Champion’s tunic that he had chosen to wear that day. “It was a gift, actually, but I imagine that’s where the person that made it could have gotten the fabric.”

“It is very nice.”

Link looked back to her, smiling and feeling increasingly self-conscious. With auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail and faint freckles on her cheeks, she looked like she might have been close to Zelda’s age from his memories. She was dressed in a simple blouse and a pair of trousers, though her clothes were very muddy, likely from sleeping on the ground during the last couple rainy days.

“Thanks,” he said before pulling his cloak from the tree branch. “Are you hungry or anything? I still have some food leftover.”

The woman patted a small pouch that she had slung over her shoulders. He supposed that she must have been wearing it when she was thrown off her horse. “I’ve been able to eat, at least.”

“Good.” After a moment, Link cleared his throat. “I’m Link, by the way.”

The woman smiled warmly at this and stepped forward, still favoring her hurt ankle, holding her hand out to him. “I am Delia. It is so nice to meet you, Link.” He shook her hand, noting the strength of her grip and callouses on her fingers. She clearly works hard with her hands, he thought.

After shaking hands, he motioned towards Spirit. “I imagine you’re eager to get off that ankle of yours. Do you need me to help you up?”

“That would be most appreciated, thank you. I don’t know if I could do so easily with my ankle the way it is.”

Link approached her, allowing her to place an arm over his shoulder, and helped her hobble over to Spirit, who stood not far away. Once there, he held her injured leg steady and lifted her up, allowing her vault her other leg over the saddle. When she was seated, he adjusted the stirrups and helped her slip her injured foot into one.

“How is that?” he asked when he stepped back from her. “Comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, smiling warmly down at him. A moment later, she frowned. “But what about you? I don’t want to force you to walk the whole way. I’m sure we both could fit, if needed.”

Link felt a sudden heat rise up his neck and shook his head. “No, I’m all right. Spirit would probably appreciate having someone lighter than me on his back, anyway. He’s been ridden pretty hard these last few weeks. I can walk.”

“If you’re sure. I’d just hate for you to have to walk so far.”

“It’s not a problem.” Link sat down in the grass, pulling back on his socks and boots, which were still damp. With some irritation, he noticed that one of his socks now had a hole in it, allowing his big toe to poke out. Sighing, he pulled his boot on over that foot and laced it up. When he stood up, he couldn’t help but to think that, yes, the walk would be uncomfortable, with how damp his clothes and boots were, but there was nothing to do about it. Such a long ride with the two of them sharing the saddle would be just as uncomfortable, as far as he was concerned.

He stepped up to the horse. “Excuse me, I just want to get this…” He untied his sheathe from the saddle, careful not to accidentally touch Delia’s legs in the process. His earlier thoughts of traveling alone with Princess Zelda had put him in a poor mindset altogether, and he scolded himself. Still, it might be nice to have someone to talk to, if only for the rest of the day. Something to keep him from dwelling on his thoughts of the past.

“That is a very nice sword,” Delia said as he strapped the scabbard to his back and then retrieved the sword. Link used the grass to wipe off any mud that clung to the blade after being stuck into the ground, and then sheathed the sword.

“It, too, was a gift,” Link said, smiling wryly. “In fact, just about everything I have with me was a gift, one way or another.”

“It sounds like you have generous friends!”

“Something like that.”

“What is that on your hip? Another gift?” She pointed at the Sheikah Slate that Link still wore.

“Oh, this?” Link reached down, running his fingers along the Sheikah Slate’s cool surface. “It’s just… something that I’m holding onto for a friend of mine.” He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly found that he didn’t want to answer any questions about it. He reached forward, taking Spirit’s reins and gently pulling the horse around so that he was facing uphill.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why were you traveling alone, anyway?” Link asked as they began to walk up the muddy dirt road. He’d left the brick roads behind as he left the Akkala Highlands. “I was under the impression that these roads can be dangerous.”

“Aren’t you traveling alone?” Delia asked, curious.

“Well, I’m armed.” Link smiled back at her, patting the sword hilt over his shoulder.

“I have some family that live up at the outpost. I hope to spend some time with them,” she said, looking a little embarrassed now. “To be honest, I assumed that I would just be able to outrun anything I came across on my horse.”

“Some of the monsters around here have horses of their own,” Link said, his eyes meeting Spirit’s. He patted the horse on the nose fondly. “Where did you travel from?”

“Hateno Village.”

Link looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “Really? I just purchased a home there. I don’t remember ever seeing you around the town, though.”

“My family are farmers. We don’t travel into town very often, unless we’re purchasing supplies.”

“I haven’t really spent a lot of time there, anyway. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling. I purchased the home more to keep some of my things, instead of making poor Spirit carry everything that I don’t immediately need.”

“Why are you traveling so much? You came from Akkala, didn’t you?”

Link flushed a little at the question, still not really sure what he should say to questions such as these. He didn’t like the idea of everybody knowing his true mission. “I’m… a traveling researcher,” he finally said, lamely.

“Oh? What are you researching?”

“Guardians.” He frowned as he looked away from her. He probably should have chosen something like the Sheikah Shrines. At least he had some inkling of what those were really like. “I’d heard that there were some functioning ones still in the Akkala Highlands.”

“Were there?” He glanced back and saw that Delia had leaned forward in the saddle, showing a great deal of interest in his words. The back of his neck grew warm again.

“A few,” he said, thinking back to those he saw on and around the Citadel. “I didn’t want to approach too close, lest they decide to attack me.”

“They sound scary, from the stories I’ve heard. I’ve never seen one up close.” That seemed odd to him for some reason, but before he could think about it any further, she continued speaking. “My grandfather once said that he saw them when they attacked the castle.”

He grimaced. What terror the people of Hyrule must have experienced when the Guardians—creations made to protect them—turned and attacked. The familiar sense of shame fell onto his shoulders like a heavy weight. If only things had happened differently. If only they’d been more prepared.

“You don’t really look like a traveling researcher,” Delia said.

“How do you imagine a traveling researcher should look?”

“I don’t know…” She sat back up straighter in the saddle, looking up thoughtfully. “Older, I suppose. Scrawnier.”

“I’m a little older than I look,” Link said, chuckling softly.

“But you’re not scrawny. You look like you’ve seen a lot of battles, actually.”

“Researching Guardians can be pretty dangerous work, if you aren’t careful. And I have a tendency of walking into trouble.”

He looked forward again, but he could still feel Delia’s eyes on him from behind. Thankfully, she did not press any further with her questions, and soon the conversation turned to less personal matters that didn’t require Link to outright lie.

Together, he and Delia traveled up the road for a couple more hours before she asked if they could stop. The sun was beginning to set in the west, and they were still a couple of hours from the outpost, at least. Traveling together slowed their pace, as Link was forced to walk, and Spirit began to show signs of tiring. Link noticed, though, that the land around them was beginning to show subtle signs of change. The color of the grass had shifted from a verdant green to a paler color with shades of yellow. The dirt had begun to show a hint of red. They were nearing the base of the volcanic mountain range.

“Are you doing all right? Is it your ankle?” Link asked as he slowed Spirit to a stop, looking back at her.

“No… Well, yes, a bit. It’s aching a lot. And I’m tired. Would this be a good place to stop for the night?”

Link looked back up the hill. “We aren’t too far from the trader’s outpost now. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to keep going? It’s maybe another couple of hours up the road.”

“Please? My ankle feels like it’s getting worse, and I’m… weary of being in the saddle. I’m sore.”

He grimaced, thinking that her choices for riding would be to put pressure on her ankle to relieve herself from the constant bouncing of the saddle, or to just endure a sore backside. It sounded to him like she ended up with both.

“Yeah, of course. Here,” he said, walking over to the side of the saddle. “I’ll help you down.”

Delia smiled gratefully down at him and leaned over, placing her hands on his shoulders. After a moment of embarrassed hesitation, Link carefully placed his hands to either side of her hips, helping her off of the horse and setting her down onto the ground. Once she was firmly on the ground, he released her hips and turned so that she could wrap an arm around his shoulder again.

“Thank you so much for all of your help,” she said as he helped her walk over to a small grassy mound, where he helped her sit. “I know that I’ve probably slowed you down terribly.”

“It’s really all right. I just wish we’d seen your horse out here somewhere,” Link stood back up, turning back to Spirit and beginning to pull his saddlebags free. “I’m glad that you have family to stay with when we get there. Are they expecting you?”

“They knew I would try to come stay with them in the spring, but we didn’t discuss any other time frame than that.” Delia gently rubbed her ankle through the leather of her boots. He thought that she would probably feel better if she removed them but didn’t voice his thoughts.

“Would it be better if I rode ahead and retrieved one of them? Maybe they could bring a wagon or something to help carry you. That way, you wouldn’t have to spend another night outside.”

She smiled up at Link and shook her head. “One more night won’t hurt me. Besides, I don’t mind the company.”

Link felt his cheeks grow warm. When he’d first met her, she’d seemed like a very shy girl, but she had gained confidence as they spoke throughout the day and grew comfortable in each other’s presence. And he had to admit to himself that he found her to be attractive. She was no green-eyed princess, true, but she had a different kind of prettiness to her. He thought that she might have a similar attraction to him from some of the things she’d said.

Not that he had any intent on taking their apparent mutual attraction anywhere. He had far more important things to worry about than a pretty face.

“If you’re sure,” he said after collecting himself. “I’ll see if I can gather some supplies for a fire. With any luck, maybe I can catch some fresh meat as well.” After ensuring that she was comfortable, he grabbed his bow and arrows from Spirit’s saddle, setting off down the hill, to where the trees grew thicker.

When he later returned carrying a rabbit by its ears with one hand, and a bundle of firewood under his other arm, he found Delia where he’d left her. She had pulled a brush from her small pack and used it to delicately brush out the tangles in her hair, which she’d pulled free of her ponytail.

Link froze and, for a moment, did not see Delia at all. Instead, he saw Princess Zelda, seated upon a tree stump, dressed in her travel clothes, brushing her hair with a silver hair brush. But he did not just see her on a stump. No, he also saw her on a rock, seated on the bare ground, on horseback, on a sandy beach. All at once, he saw images flash through his head of the princess brushing her hair in a dozen different positions, wearing a dozen different outfits. It had been a nightly ritual of hers.

“Link?” she asked, looking up at him curiously.

Blinking rapidly, Link dispelled the images, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, the images of Princess Zelda had faded, replaced by the single image of Delia, looking at him with a concerned expression. It hadn’t been the princess who had spoken.

“Oh, sorry, I… Distracted.” Link cleared his throat, trying to hide the sudden uncomfortable urge he got to be away from this woman who, for the briefest of moments, brought images of his princess to his mind.

“You get distracted a lot,” she said, slipping her hairbrush back into her pack. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a flash of white in the pack, but it had been too quick for him to see any kind of detail. “You need to be more careful, or it will be the death of you one day.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, a little more gruffly than he meant to. He set the wood down on the ground, placing the dead rabbit down next to him.

“Poor little guy,” Delia said, looking at the rabbit. “He had no idea what was coming.”

“I’d be a poor hunter, if he did,” Link said, trying to inject some humor back into his tone. She didn’t deserve for him to get moody around her just because she had been brushing her hair.

“Indeed.”

She watched him as he assembled the bundles of sticks into a small stack before he took out his belt knife and began to shave pieces of bark off to be used for kindling.

“I can skin the rabbit, if you’d like,” she offered after a few minutes of watching him prepare the fire. He handed the dead rabbit over, along with his knife, and she went to work while he set about starting the fire with a rock and a piece of flint. When he finished, he looked with some satisfaction at the small, but healthy fire that he’d been able to get started. The warmth was a welcome change after the last two nights of damp chill.

Delia proved very adept at skinning the rabbit, as well, her cuts delicate so as to preserve the animal’s pelt. That was good—Link might be able to trade it for a few rupees in the outpost. He did not have many rupees left to his name at this point, and Purah had not been willing to part with anymore after he convinced her to buy his house for him. He supposed that he would probably split whatever amount he sold the rabbit pelt for with Delia, though.

By the time she had finished, he had set up a small stand for his cookpot using leftover wood and stones to lift it off the fire. He took over the cooking, cutting the rabbit meat up and combining it with other vegetables and herbs he had or had foraged.

“Wow,” Delia said as she watched him prod the meat with a wooden spoon. “I hadn’t expected that you would be such a good cook as well.”

Link glanced up at her and smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Just something I picked up, I suppose.”

She hummed a response, and Link looked back down at the pan, satisfied with how everything looking. He carefully removed it from the fire, setting it down on a flat stone that he’d carried over. Once satisfied, he held the wooden spoon out to her.

“I don’t really have any plates or utensils,” he explained at her questioning look. She took the spoon and he took the knife, wiping it before letting the fire burn off any excess blood from the blade before using it to spear a chunk of rabbit.

They ate in silence for a time. Link was mostly satisfied with the dinner, but he felt like something was missing, though he just couldn’t placer a finger on it. He felt certain, though, that whatever it was must have been locked behind a memory that he hadn’t regained. Delia, it appeared, agreed with him, as she fished in her pack after finishing their meal and pulled out a pair of ripe bananas, holding one out to Link.

After their supper, Link laid out his own bedroll for her to use, finding her a spot of soft grass before backing away to the other side of the fire, where he’d laid out his cloak, which had, gratefully, dried by the warm fire.

“You’ve been incredibly sweet to me, Link,” Delia said as she watched him clean up and prepare for bed. “You didn’t have to do any of this at all.”

“What should I have done? Made you go get your own?” he said, looking up at her with a wry smile.

“Regardless, I do not think I will ever forget the kindness you showed me.”

Link couldn’t quite read her expression in the flickering firelight, so he merely shrugged again. “I couldn’t very well leave someone in need.”

“That’s why I’m so glad that I found you.” He could see her smile from beyond the fire before she lied down, curling up in his bedroll. He sat by the fire while she settled before lying down himself, wrapping his cloak around him, and soon falling asleep.

“…”

She appeared before him, resplendent in her white dress. Her green eyes were like emeralds. Her blonde hair shone with the sun. He couldn’t but to smile at the sight of her. It was nice to see her again.

“Eyes…”

She was saying something to him, but it seemed distant. Hard to make out. It sounded as though he were underwater. He shook his head to try to tell her that he couldn’t understand her, still smiling.

“Your eyes…!”

He frowned now. Her expression had come into greater clarity; she looked terrified. Her eyes were wide, lips forming her frantic words. Now he heard her.

“Open your eyes, Link! Wake up!”

Link’s eyes opened with a jolt. Standing directly over him was a dark figure, face covered by a white mask bearing an inverted Sheikah Eye.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Open your eyes, Link! Wake up!”

Princess Zelda’s voice still ringing out in his head, Link swept his cloak off of his body, kicking his legs out to the side, catching the ankles of his would-be assassin. The masked figure stumbled over his feet but didn’t fall. It still gave Link enough time to roll to the side, throwing himself to his feet. He leaped backwards, stumbling over the uneven ground, as the attacker’s wickedly curved blade hissed through the air, seeking his chest.

He had no time to think, to wonder at the assassin’s identity or if Delia was safe. As the assassin whirled, wielding a curved sickle in either hand, he spun out of the way and ducked, trying to sweep a leg out again. The assassin was prepared for it this time and jumped over Link’s outstretched leg, spinning the sickle around in their hand, and plunging the pointed edge down towards his exposed scalp. He rolled, avoiding the worst of the attack, though he felt a sudden, searing pain down his bare back as the blade sliced his flesh open there.

He jumped to his feet and placed the tree he’d been sleeping near between him and the assassin. He heard the attacker’s sickle strike the wood, and he spun around the tree, slamming a fist into the side of the attacker’s head, sending them sprawling onto Link’s cloak. Satisfied, Link reached down to where he’d left his sword lying against the tree trunk, only to find his hand closing on empty air.

His sword was gone.

He looked up as the assassin spun and rose in a blur of movement. So fast. Faster than Link, for sure. This time, however, the assassin didn’t immediately attack, instead reaching up and straightening their mask, which had been knocked askew by Link’s punch. The assassin looked up at Link and tilted their head curiously, looking at him.

“Looking for your sword?” the assassin spoke in a feminine voice. “You aren’t going to find it. It’s at the bottom of the lake.”

He knew that voice. Eyes widening, he looked to the side, where Delia’s bedroll lay empty. The clothes and boots that she had been wearing earlier sat next to it in a crumpled heap. His eyes found the assassin again, taking in her appearance.

Thin and muscular, yet bearing an indisputably female figure now that he had a moment to take notice, she was the right height and build. She wore a tight-fitting black and red body suit that covered her from head to toe. He could see no sign of her auburn hair, and the mask covered her face. With the voice, however, there was little doubt in his mind.

“Delia?” His eyes darted around for another weapon. His ancient sword was in Spirit’s saddlebags, which could work, if it weren’t for the fact that they were on the other side of the fire—and the woman out for his blood. “What are you doing?

“Well, I thought that would be obvious,” she said, rolling her head on her shoulders and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I plan to skin you like that rabbit.”

She leaped forward, spinning her sickles in either hand with deft fingers before bringing them together in a move that would have decapitated Link, if he hadn’t dodged it. She kicked out, and her foot caught him in the midsection, knocking the breath from his lungs and making him double over. Her knee slammed into his face.

Stars burst in front of his eyes, and he cried out, stumbling back. He tasted blood. When his vision cleared, she was there, moving viperous speed and grace. He caught her first attack with his palm, but before he could disarm her, the other sickle swept in towards his exposed gut. He shoved her back, disrupting the slash enough that it passed within a hair’s breadth of his bare stomach.

Delia spun, twisting her sickle around into a backhand grip, sweeping it in a wide arc towards his head. He ducked it and countered, striking her twice in quick succession with his fists. She grunted in surprise, leaping back, one fist pressed to her midsection.

“I’m glad you woke up,” she said. Her voice held a hardness that hadn’t been there when they spoke during the day. “I’d heard from some of our spies that you were an adept fighter, and of course, I’ve heard the legends.”

“Who are you? Are you Sheikah?” Link asked, standing up straight and reaching up to wipe blood from his nose and mouth.

She laughed. It was a chilling sound, cold and slightly manic. “You truly don’t know? Oh, how delicious.”

She moved, her body twisting like that of a dancer. Every move she made seemed to flow perfectly into the next with blinding speed. Her sickles were flashes of dark metal in the night, difficult to make out in the dim light. Only her white mask truly stood out, reflecting the firelight.

He dodged the flurry of blows, diving into a roll that took him just past her spinning form. He came back to his feet and sprinted towards the saddlebags, leaping over the smoldering remains of his fire and landing near where Spirit stood, looking anxious. Something flashed past his ear. A small metal disc lodged itself in the leather of the nearest saddlebag, and Link looked back just in time to see her grab another of the throwing weapons off her waist and whip it towards him.

Link dodged, but Spirit was not so lucky. The horse behind Link screamed in sudden pain and terror, kicking his legs and breaking into a gallop, running away from the camp. Fury burst alight in Link’s belly. If she had hurt his horse—!

She sent several more of the spinning discs his way, and he was forced to dodge to the side, landing in a roll and coming back up a few feet away from where he’d been standing. She was on him almost immediately, wielding both sickles again with deadly accuracy. She struck with quick cuts, aiming not to catch his vital organs, but to give him multiple shallow gashes on his forearms, biceps, and chest. Pain flared wherever the metal blades touched, but he had little opportunity to break away and run back to the saddlebags. Every time he tried, she put herself in his way.

Finally, he leaped into a backflip, landing a kick to her face in the process. Her head snapped back, and she fell onto her back. Delia did not remain lying down for more than a split second, kicking herself back up to a standing position. He could tell from the set of her shoulders that he had angered her this time.

She came at him again, and he was forced to give up ground, his feet soon leaving the grass of their small encampment behind and setting down on the red dirt road. He slapped aside one of the sickles but felt the second one slice into his side. He hissed in pain and spun away from her. I need a weapon, dammit! If he kept trying to fight her unarmed, he would die. He already lost too much blood as it was. He would begin to slow soon. Adrenaline could only carry him on for so long.

He rolled to the side, avoiding another series of attacks, and came up on one knee next to a thick tree branch that had fallen off the tree he slept under. That will work, he thought as he snatched it up, catching Delia’s next attack. The sickle cut deep into the wood, but the branch held. The second sickle came in for the kill, its point aiming for his neck. He threw his other arm out, catching the back side of the blade with his hand and driving it forward, towards her own torso. She twisted her wrist just in time, and the flat of the blade struck her chest, rather than the point.

She disengaged, stepping back and looking him up and down. He thought that she was smiling behind her mask. He stood to his feet, suppressing a groan. His side flared with terrible pain, but the pain in his arms had faded. In fact, he could not much feel his arms at all. That wasn’t good.

“Such a valiant hero you are, Link,” she said, sounding delighted. “Fighting me with nary but a stick.”

Link gripped the stick with both hands, taking a deep breath and trying to dispel the pain of his many wounds. He felt blood running down his sides and back, soaking into the trousers that he’d worn to bed.

When he did not engage in her banter, she made an irritated sound and leaped forward again. With the stick in hand, Link was not quite at such a severe disadvantage, able to keep her at a safer range. The sickles had a very short range, and the stick was slightly longer than Link’s silver sword.

He was slowing, though, and they both knew it. Every time one of her sickles struck the stick, he was afraid that it would be the blow that knocked it from his increasingly numb hands. And though he was able to keep her from striking him, he had no way of going on the offensive.

He caught one of her sickles with the stick again, but this time, she did not lunge out at him with her other sickle. Instead, she swept the other sickle across the upper portion of the stick like a pair of pincers. Link’s heart sank and he knew what would happen, even before the second sickle connected with the piece of wood, snapping it in two. The longer of the two pieces spun away into the darkness, leaving Link with a jagged piece of wood that was shorter, even, than the length of Delia’s sickles.

She laughed in a manic sort of way, thinking that she’d finally won, and brought her sickle around to cut Link’s throat. He jumped, catching the blade in his shoulder instead, and drove the jagged stick into Delia’s chest.

Delia screamed in pain, leaping back and grabbing at the piece of wood that jutted from her body. Link smiled faintly, reaching up and covering the new cut on his shoulder with his hand. The sickle had cut deep into the muscle, leaving that arm feeling weak and difficult to move. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have, though.

The assassin wrenched the jagged piece of wood from her chest and threw it to the ground in disgust. Link’s aim had, unfortunately, been off, plunging into her chest just to the right of her heart. Ah well. It had been worth a shot.

“I will enjoy presenting your head to Master Kohga,” Delia spat, her tone ragged.

“Sounds like your master has some strange tastes,” he said, taking a labored breath. He glanced to the saddlebags, but they were just too far. He had one other tool at his disposal, though. One other chance. He just hoped he could reach it.

Delia spun her sickles in her hands once more before running towards Link. He waited until she was nearly upon him, her curved blades seeking his flesh, before he spun into a crouch, kicking his outstretched leg out. It connected solidly with her side, and it, along with her own momentum, sent her sprawling to the ground past him.

Link jumped to his feet, sprinting for the spot he’d been sleeping. If she had disposed of it, too, then he was doomed. But if she hadn’t seen it or known what it was—yes! He rolled, hearing a pair of the spinning blades hiss through the air just over him, and came up holding the Sheikah Slate, his back to their camp site.

He spun, fingers dancing across the surface of the smooth rectangle device. She had already caught up with him and leaped in the air, both sickles held to plunge into Link’s chest. He pressed the spot on the screen where he knew the icon to be located.

Delia froze in midair, suddenly glowing with a brilliant yellow light. She was mere feet from him, suspended in a field of Stasis. Link leaped to his feet and punched her in the torso once, twice, three times. The yellow light began to pulse rapidly as the stasis field neared its breaking point. He continued to hammer blows into her frozen body, though his punches were growing weaker. He was losing too much strength now.

Suddenly, she flashed with a brilliant yellow light, and Link heard an agonizing crunch. He thought it might have been her ribs. She flew backwards in a low arc, hitting the ground, and tumbling end over end, before coming to rest some ten feet away. For a moment, she was prone, and he thought that she had been knocked unconscious or worse. But then she began to stir and pushed herself to her feet, groaning.

Shaking her head, Delia looked back around at Link, and he read fury in her posture. She pushed herself to her feet, still holding both of her sickles, and sprinted towards him again, screaming. He couldn’t use Stasis again so quickly, so Link’s fingers danced across the screen again, selecting another icon.

A glowing blue ball appeared on the ground between them, and Link pressed the button again almost just as quickly. The remote bomb exploded, and he flew back, hitting the ground and sliding across the grass and into the still-warm remains of his fire. The Sheikah Slate flew from his hand, spinning away into the darkness.

He rolled over lest he add burns from burning coals to his growing list of injuries and came to rest on his back beside the firepit. To his horror, Delia was suddenly there. She had lost her mask and one of her sickles, and he could see that her outfit looked scorched and torn in multiple places.

She sat down on his legs, straddling him so that he could neither trip her to move away again. His hands searched out in the darkness, hoping to find a stick leftover from the fire—anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers brushed something smooth. Something forgotten. Delia raised her sickle, readying to end his life.

He sat up and drove his hunting knife directly into her heart.

She grunted. The remaining sickle clattered to the ground beside them. Her eyes widened with shock. He met them, gritting his teeth, grabbed her shoulder and drove the knife in deeper. She opened her mouth, but the only sound that escaped her lips was a bloody gurgle.

Link pushed her off of him, and she slumped to the side. With difficulty, he sat up and rolled her over onto her back. He met her eyes again and saw, to his shame, tears at their corners. He wished that she had never lost her mask. It would have been far easier if she were the faceless assassin, rather than the woman he had spent much of his time with the day before.

Delia spasmed, and he held her shoulder to keep her still, never looking away from her face. Soon the life left her eyes, her face grew slack, and her body stopped moving. Convinced that she would rise no longer, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, only for his legs to collapse under his weight.

Too much blood, he thought as he struggled to rise again. I’ve lost too much blood. He couldn’t stand, but he was able to slowly crawl over to the tree that he’d slept beside. Once there, he turned and sat against the rough bark. It probably should have hurt the wounds on his back, but he could no longer feel them.

He needed to bind his wounds. Prevent himself from losing any more blood. He needed…

Link’s eyes closed, and his head slumped to the side as darkness overtook him.

The sound of hooves on dirt woke Link. He blinked bleary eyes and lifted his head slowly, looking around. The sun had come up while he slept, and he saw Spirit walking slowly down the dirt road. “Hey, boy,” he said, his voice a croak. The horse looked up at him and snorted softly, turning and walking towards him.

Link groaned softly and pushed himself off of the tree, his body aching and feeling sore all over. It didn’t seem to hurt nearly as much as it should, though, and he frowned, looking down at himself. He was covered with dry blood. A shocking amount of blood. It was on his chest, his arms, and soaked into his trousers. However, as he prodded at his body, where he knew he had taken wounds, he found nothing beyond tender flesh. His wounds had healed.

“Thanks, Mipha,” he said softly as he rolled onto his knees. He pushed himself to his feet, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Though his body was still sore, he had regained much of his strength.

Spirit approached, and he turned, hugging the horse’s face fondly. “I’m sorry about that.” The horse only nickered in response. He ran his fingers along his horse’s neck, petting him gently. Finally, he pulled away and began to inspect Spirit’s body until he found where the small blade had struck. Thankfully, it had not gotten lodged into Spirit’s flank or had otherwise come free when Spirit began to run. The cut didn’t seem so bad; the blood around it had dried.

Just to be sure, he made a full circle around Spirit, checking for any other wounds, as well as checking his hooves for any damage. Only when he finished did he pull an apple from one of the saddlebags and hold it out for Spirit to take, which the horse happily did.

Finally, Link turned and looked at the body of his would-be assassin. Delia lay where he had left her the night before. The knife still protruded from her chest. The dirt and grass around her body had been stained red with blood.

He stood there and looked down into her lifeless face for a long time. She looked tiny in death. No longer lithe and muscular, but wiry and defenseless. He felt sick. Disgusted. Bokoblins and lynels were one thing, but this… He felt as if he had killed for the first time all over again. Link had killed this woman.

He wasn’t a fool. She was no innocent. She’d had every intention on killing him. Her attack was not due to chance or some offense taken to the extreme. No, this had been an assassination attempt on his life. She had been waiting there for him to arrive. Someone wanted him dead.

The thought should scare him somehow. He had barely survived their fight. In fact, were it not for Mipha’s latent powers that he now possessed, he still might have perished. Yet all he could think about was the smile Delia gave him before laying down to sleep. Should he have known then? Was there something in her smile that should have tipped him off?

Slowly, Link knelt on the ground beside her and gently closed her unseeing eyes. He did not know how he should dispose of her body. How did Hylians honor their dead? Were the prayers that needed to be spoken? He couldn’t remember.

He wrenched the blade from her chest and turned, throwing as hard as he could into the valley to the west. He watched as the blade spun rapidly through the air until it sank out of view. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head, eyes closed.

After a time, he opened his eyes and looked in the direction that the castle stood, hidden from view by the mountainous terrain that surrounded the base of Death Mountain. “Princess? Princess Zelda, can you hear me?”

On this day, he received no reply. Grimacing, Link sighed and picked up his Sheikah Slate from where it had fallen nearby. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction.

True to her word, Delia had, indeed, thrown Link’s sword into the lake. Using the Magnesis rune, he was able to find the sword glowing crimson on the Sheikah Slate’s display. He carefully made his way down to the edge of the water and used the rune to lift the sword from the lake’s depths.

Once he completed that task, he waded into the water himself, washing the dried blood off of him. His trousers would likely be ruined, but that was fine. He had an extra pair to wear. It took him a long time before he was satisfied that the blood was gone—both his and hers—from his body and hands. He still felt soiled when he emerged from the lake.

He climbed the craggy cliff, sword slung over his shoulder and Sheikah Slate attached to his hip and made his way back to the small camp. Once there, he began to gather the largest stones that he could find.

The work took several hours, and the sun had reached its zenith before Link stepped back from the pile of stones that now served as a grave for the woman, Delia, who had tried to kill him.

He didn’t know if he had ever killed a person before. Certainly, he was skilled with the blade, and had killed many monsters, both since awakening, and likely a hundred years ago. Had he killed men with the same skill? Had he gone to war for his king and country? Had he protected Princess Zelda from assassins, such as Delia? Had he ever experienced this terrible hollow feeling before? He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know the answer.

It will all be worth it if I can find a way to defeat Ganon, he thought as he began to pack up his remaining supplies. He had long since replaced his blood-stained trousers with his second pair and donned the tunic that Telma had given him in Kakariko Village. He was packing away his bedroll when he noticed her small pack lying beside it.

He picked it up and opened the flap. He found little of value in it, however. Another two of the bananas that she’d shared with him during their meal together, a few additional circular throwing blades, and a small knife with what appeared to be an ivory hilt. Link took the knife out, inspecting it, and decided to keep it as a replacement to the one he’d thrown away. Unfortunately, he found no indication in her bag of who Delia really was or why she had been sent to kill him. He had a few hints, however.

First was the mask that she’d been wearing. He found it while gathering stones earlier in the day. It had the Sheikah eye emblazoned on its white surface in deep crimson ink the color of blood, but she had worn it in such a way that the eye was inverted with the tear drop above the iris. He had asked her if she was a Sheikah, but she had scoffed at the implication. So, what was she, then?

Furthermore, she had mentioned a Master Kohga. The name was unfamiliar to him, but this appeared to be the man that had ordered his assassination. So, why did this Kohga want him dead? He looked back in the direction where he knew the castle lay and thought he had a pretty good idea why.

“Someone is trying to stop me from freeing the Divine Beasts,” Link said aloud as he looked back down at the white mask. “Trying to stop be from defeating Ganon, perhaps.” But why? Why would anyone want that? Princess Zelda had told him that she didn’t believe Ganon knew that Link still lived, so this seemed unlikely to have been by his order. Which meant that this was another party entirely—one that still existed today and possibly served Calamity Ganon.

He rose from his spot on the ground, still holding the mask in his hands. He walked over and slipped the mask into his saddlebags. There was much that he didn’t know about the whole situation, but he had an idea of who would. Once he was finished with Divine Beast Vah Rudania, it would be time to pay a visit to Kakariko Village again. Impa would likely know what was going on.

When he finally saddled Spirit again and climbed onto the horse’s back, the day had given way to afternoon. Link looked down at the remains of the camp site and the pile of rocks to one side of it. He took a deep breath and then nudged Spirit into motion, looking ahead to the road before him. It would still take a couple of hours to reach the trading outpost, and Link wanted to be there before night fell.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hot. It had gotten very hot. Overwhelmingly so. Link had been warned, of course, that Death Mountain was unwelcoming to outsiders, especially as of late, when the Divine Beast had mysteriously grown active again, causing the ancient volcano to begin spewing magma regularly. But though he had been warned, he still hadn’t known what to expect. He had expected something like a hot summer day, not that the very air itself felt like it was on fire.

It was hot enough that Link would have been in serious danger of dehydration, especially as he had to leave his horse back at the Foothill Stable, found within the center of the Eldin trading outpost. Without his horse, Link would have had no way to carry large amounts of water for the three-day hike up to Goron City.

Thankfully, he had found some help.

“I don’t understand those treasure hunters at all,” Boldon, the Goron, said as he and Link made their way along the path. “I mean, I’m sure the castle has plenty of secrets and valuable treasure, but it’s dangerous, too! I hear it’s inhabited by all sorts of monsters. They’re just crazy.”

The enormous, brown-skinned Goron had his yellow hair tied up above his head and wore a large pack on his back. In one of his massive hands—easily large enough to wrap around Link’s entire head with room to spare—he held a metal chain that was linked to a huge lizard that lumbered along behind them.

Boldon was what he called the ambassador of tourism to Goron City. The giant lizard, which had an iron muzzle around its wide maw, was something called a dodongo. The Goron assured him that it was perfectly safe, as long as they kept the muzzle on it and he didn’t get too close to its mouth, lest it try to breathe fire through the muzzle anyway. “Once saw a Hylian catch on fire that way, I did,” the Goron told him. Link gave the dodongo a wide berth ever since.

He met Boldon at the Foothill Stable, where he’d found out about the mountain’s recent increase in activity. When Link told him of his hopes to visit Goron City, Boldon had been excited, offering to help him make his way up. It would seem that Boldon’s job had become very uneventful lately. The Goron had offered to help Link by carrying a large barrel of water for him in what looked like an old minecart strapped to the dodongo’s back. At least that way, Link would not be at risk of dehydration.

Unfortunately, the heat of the mountain was not so easily beaten. While at the stable, Link had purchased several disgusting-looking elixirs that Boldon had assured him would help with the extreme heat. Fireproof elixirs, they were called. He hadn’t tried one yet, as Boldon warned him that it would get far hotter the closer they got to the volcano, and they would only last for about six to eight hours apiece. He would be able to get more at Goron City.

“So, people actually still venture into Hyrule Castle?” Link asked after taking a long pull on his water skin. The water from the barrel had gotten very warm by now and had an earthy, metallic aftertaste. Link tried to ignore the gritty texture that he felt on his teeth after drinking it.

“That’s what I hear, anyway,” Boldon said, looking down at Link. “Some claim to have found a great big library in it with books that reach the ceiling.”

“Do you know the way they use to get in?”

Boldon shrugged his great big shoulders, the chain in his hand jingling softly. “No clue. It’s just things that I’ve heard from other travelers.”

“Do you get travelers up here a lot?” Link asked. The tunic he wore—the Champion’s tunic, as it was the lightest of his tunics—stuck to his sweat-drenched body. His feet felt as they were smoldering in his boots, but he had already learned the hard way that he couldn’t safely remove his boots here. The ground was far too hot. Thankfully, he had been able to purchase a special pair of new boots from the outpost that had soles that would not melt from the extreme heat as he had been assured his old boots would.

“Not anymore,” Boldon said, frowning and looking up towards Death Mountain. The volcano perpetually spewed smoke and ash into the sky now, and Link could see far more clearly the lava trails that ran down its sides. It certainly seemed to live up to its name.

Their first day of walking had taken them by several bodies of water that Boldon had explained were natural hot springs, though they were not the famous Goron hot springs that were found up on the mountain. They had stopped there to wade into the pools of steamy water—an experience that Link had found incredibly refreshing and oddly nostalgic for something he couldn’t remember. The hot water had done much to sooth the aches of the last several days.

Shortly after commencing with the second day of travel, they had come near the Sheikah Tower, where Link requested they pause. Boldon had watched him with fascination as he climbed up the tower’s lattice, which was surprisingly cool, considering most everything else that he touched around here was at the very least warm to the touch, if not blisteringly hot. Once having activated the tower, he used the paraglider to sail down to where Boldon watched with wide eyes.

They had slept that night in the southern mine. Link had found the somewhat cooler caves where the Gorons worked to mine various ore and precious metals to be a relief when compared to the outside trail, where at any given point in time, they could have been walking past a bubbling pool of molten rock.

On the third day, they encountered the strange creatures known as pebblits.

“Oh, they’re not so bad,” Boldon said as Link backed away, alarmed at the strange formation of stone that had suddenly risen up and walked towards him on stubby rock legs.

He had been walking along the path beside Boldon, who had just been explaining the joys of mine cart racing to him, when a rock they were passing just moving. It had a large central body made of a large rock, with two arms and two legs, also made of formations of stone.

Boldon bent down, wrapping his massive hand around the central stone, and picked it up. Somehow, the various stones that made up the pebblit’s body all stayed together, even though it appeared to Link to be made up of about a dozen individual rocks, all of different sizes and shapes. The Goron held the pebblit upside down, looking at it with a grin. The strange creature’s little arms and legs still pumped, as if it thought it was still on the ground.

“They taste terrible,” Boldon said, looking over at Link. “If they didn’t, we probably would have eaten them all ages ago!” He tossed the pebblit into the pool of magma they were next to. Link watched as the pebblit hit the lava with an oddly subdued splash and sank beneath the yellow and orange surface.

“Don’t worry,” Boldon said. “It’ll be okay. It’ll reform on the bank after a while.”

Link hadn’t been that particularly concerned about the pebblit’s safety, as much as he was alarmed with the new creatures he’d seen since arriving at Death Mountain. Walking rocks and giant, fire-breathing lizards were hardly comforting to him.

“Now, if you ever come across a Talus, I’d run.”

“What’s a Talus?” Link asked, looking back up at Boldon.

“It’s like a pebblit, but about that size.” Boldon pointed to a massive rock outcrop. It was easily at least twice as tall as the Goron, if not even taller. “Mean piles of rock, those are. Sometimes, we go out in hunting parties to try to destroy them when they get to close to the city.”

Link thought of all the rocks and boulders they had passed on the way up the mountain, feeling a chill run down his spine. What was this place? He suddenly found himself missing the bokoblins and lizalfos of Hyrule Field and Zora’s Domain.

“Oh, we have lizalfos too, brother,” Boldon said after Link mentioned this, grinning widely. “Fire lizalfos.”

“Why are they—oh, let me guess: they breathe fire,” Link said, the pit in his stomach growing ever more insistent.

“Yep.”

“Fantastic.”

It was mid-afternoon when Link and Boldon, along with the muzzled dodongo, passed underneath a giant arch made from what looked to be pieces of scrap metal, and Link got his first look at the great Goron city, appropriately titled Goron City.

Goron City seemed to take every concept and idea that went into the creation of the capital of Zora’s Domain and invert it. Where Zora’s Domain had been carefully created with order and aesthetics in mind, Goron City was laid out seemingly haphazardly. The city seemed to be located in a giant bowl or crater, with pathways of rock or metal crisscrossing throughout with no discernible pattern. Buildings were made from combinations of rock and sheets of metal and were, likewise, seemingly random in their location and size. Some buildings were side-by-side while others had been built nearly on top of each other, with ramps leading up to the upper levels. Shockingly, Link even saw a few pools of magma interspersed throughout the city, often with bridges made of interlocking iron plates crossing over them.

Everywhere he looked, there were Gorons of varying shapes and sizes. He saw young Gorons that were shorter than him, with much softer and rounder looking bodies, as well as very old Gorons with drooping skin and bowed rocky backs. Some Gorons were bald while others had massive amounts of hair and beards. Some wore clothes while others worn nothing but a small wrap to cover their waists.

“Do all Gorons live here?” Link asked, eyes taking in the full sight before him. While Goron City was sprawling, to be sure, it was not as large as he would have expected. He saw dozens of Gorons—maybe even hundreds—but that couldn’t have been all of them.

“Oh no, brother,” Boldon said, chuckling. “Most of us live underground. Lots of us are in Gortram Mountain.” He thumbed a finger over his shoulder, pointing back to the large ridgeline that the path up to Goron City had circled around. He also pointed at another massive outcrop of rock on the other side of Goron City. “And under Monument Rock.”

Link looked over at what Boldon called Monument Rock, his eyes traveling up its strangely shaped surface. Giant pieces of rock jutted off of it in different directions, none of them quite how he expected they should look… And then he saw it. The faces.

Four different Goron faces had been carved into the massive cliff. Some of their bodies had been carved into the rock as well—the strange extensions of rock that looked strange to Link, he now recognized as arms, complete with hands and fingers. One of the hands even ended up in a giant thumbs-up. Three Gorons stood level—the Goron with the thumbs-up, an older Goron with what looked like some kind of bead necklace, and a youthful Goron. Standing above those three, however, was another Goron. One that Link instantly recognized.

Daruk.

Daruk, with his white hair and bushy beard. Daruk, with his confident half-smile. Daruk, with his eyes on the distant Death Mountain, hand outstretched as if to grasp it. Daruk, Link’s friend. Daruk. Link’s brother.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

No one told Squire Link to watch out for monsters around Death Mountain. No one told him that, if he were to wander away from Goron City, where the knights were spending time coordinating with the Goron warriors in their annual training exercises, then he would be in danger of being ambushed by a group of fire-breathing lizards, along with a massive long-snouted moblin.

Of course, no one told him he could leave Goron City either.

He had thought his little detour would just be a chance to see that strange Sheikah structure that he’d spotted while touring the area. He’d seen a few others of those in his life—there was even one near the Royal Ancient Lab that he’d seen when visiting it with his father and the king a few years back—but he never had a chance to really look at one up-close. Those Sheikah scientists had shooed him away from seeing the one at the lab, since they were having a private conference around it with the king and the princess.

What Link found out, though, is that the monsters on Death Mountain could be very territorial and didn’t like it when lone Hylians showed up to poke their distinctly non-piggish noses around their home. Just fantastic.

He whirled, moving out of the way of the gout of orange flames that the lizalfo sent his way. He swore that he could feel the hairs on his arms singe away. Great. He was already teased for having almost no hair on his chest and arms just because the hair was so blonde—now he really would have no hair on his arms! He brought his sword down on the back of the lizalfo’s extended neck, cleaving it right off.

Behind him, he heard the moblin roar in anger, and he rolled to the side just in time to avoid being crushed by a large stone. He spun and charged at the now-weaponless moblin. The beast swung a meaty arm at him, but he ducked low, sliding under the arm, and thrust his sword up into the moblin’s armpit. It bleated painfully, backing away before he could plunge the sword in any deeper.

Something large and metal spun past Link’s ear from behind, and he followed its progress in the air as it flew out and then, startlingly, arced around and came right back towards him. He threw himself to the side as the bladed boomerang swept through the air where he’d been standing. He hit the ground in a roll and jumped back up just in time to see another of the lizalfos catch the boomerang and hiss dangerously at him.

These lizalfos were different than the ones he’d seen in Zora’s Domain before. These were taller and brawnier than those ones, with thick snouts and longer teeth, and a set of sharp spines that began at their heads and ran all the way down to their tails. They had grey skin that helped them blend in with the rocky environment of Death Mountain, too.

They also wielded much nicer weaponry than he’d seen a river lizalfo wield. Like a three-bladed iron boomerang that actually worked.

The lizalfo winded its arm back and then threw the boomerang at him again, who side-stepped it as it passed. He turned, watching its lazy arc and gauging its speed. When it looped back around towards him, Link held his breath, narrowing his eyes. He stepped to the side again, just out of its path, and everything seemed to slow for just a second. He could see the individual blades spinning, shimmering in the red-tinted air of Death Mountain.

Link raised his sword and brought it down on the boomerang just as it passed him again, sending it clattering to the ground. Behind him, the lizalfo released a screech of surprise as its weapon of choice hit the dirt well out of its reach. Grinning, Link spun and sprinted at the lizalfo. The lizalfo took a deep breath, preparing its fire-breath, but he didn’t give him a chance to exhale, plunging his sword right down the open maw. The lizalfo’s eyes opened wide in shock and pain before Link ripped his sword free.

Link spun, eyes finding the moblin again. It had seemingly recovered from its earlier panic, as it now picked up the fallen boomerang and threw it at Link. The spinning blade flew far too wide, however, and Link stood still as it passed on one side of him and then returned on his other side. The moblin went to catch it but misjudged the angle of the boomerang terribly, crying out in pain as the boomerang struck its outstretched hand, falling to the ground, along with two of its thick fingers.

Before it could recover from its shock, he was there, looking up at the towering pig-monster, and thrust his sword deep into its chest, finding the moblin’s heart. The monster shuddered, and he pulled his sword free, stepping to the side and letting the moblin fall forward to the ground.

Link breathed heavily as he surveyed the carnage around him, sword held to his side, multi-colored blood still dripping from its blade. Damn. He had just wanted to see that Sheikah thing, not engage in a fight. He hadn’t expected to be forced to kill today. It felt pointless. He hadn’t been protecting anyone, hadn’t been on a mission to help some poor farmers or save a village being raided. He’d walked in on their home and slaughtered them.

It didn’t feel very knightly of him. What would his father say if he saw Link butchering these creatures?

Suddenly, something crashed to the ground behind him with a loud battle cry. The impact was enough to cause the earth around him to shudder and nearly send Link to his knees. He stumbled, spinning around, ready to face whatever new creature had shown up to defend its home. Would this be one of the Stone Taluses that he’d heard so much about?

What Link saw, though, surprised him. Rather than a new monster out for his blood, he found a massive Goron standing in the middle of a crater in the rock, huge weapon in hand. It wasn’t a sword, per se, but was shaped somewhat like one, with a long hilt made to be wielded by two Goron hands and a thick blade that ended in blunted edges. It ended in more reinforced iron, forming something like a sledgehammer’s head at its end. He had seen weapons like it being used in the mines to shatter stone.

The Goron himself had wild white hair, a thick beard, and strikingly blue eyes. He wore no clothes other than the standard wrap of twisted cloth around his waist that the Gorons called a mawashi, but he did have a black metal chain that crisscrossed on his chest, forming an X right over his heart. A brilliant red ruby cut into the shape of the Goron sigil sat housed in the center of the X.

“Don’t worry, Little Guy! The mighty Daruk is here to—” The Goron stopped, lowering his weapon, looking around in confusion. “What happened?”

Link ran his hands through his hair, which was beginning to get long. This wasn’t good. He had hoped to check out the Sheikah structure and then go back before anyone noticed his absence.

“I was out walking, and stumbled upon—”

“Wait, you took all these guys out by yourself?” Daruk asked, stepping out of his self-imposed crater and nudging the headless lizalfo with one of his feet. “Good job, Little Guy!”

Behind Daruk, another lizalfo poked it head up from behind an outcrop, looking down at them. Link’s eyes widened and he stepped forward, hand out.

“Watch out, there’s a—”

“I came down here because I saw you from the peak. I thought you needed some help, but you were fine all along!” Daruk was oblivious to the danger behind him as the lizalfo stood, holding its spear.

“Behind you!”

Daruk frowned at Link and began to turn, but he was moving too slow. Far too slow. Link dropped his sword and grabbed up the fallen boomerang. The lizalfo hissed and leaped into the air, preparing to bring its spear down on Daruk’s unprotected back. Link threw the boomerang.

The spinning blade whistled through the air as it passed over Daruk’s shoulder, eliciting a confused “Huh?” from the Goron. The boomerang caught the lizalfo in the face, rocking its entire body back and causing it to slam into Daruk feet-first, rather than with the point of its spear. The lizalfo fell to the ground, dead, and its spear landed beside it. The Goron barely stumbled when the much-smaller lizalfo hit him, looking down at the fallen creature with confusion.

Daruk turned to look back at Link, blue eyes wide with surprise. He looked a little… dopey, in a way. “Little Guy, you just… you saved me!”

“Link. My name is Link.”

“Link, huh?” Daruk said, reaching up to rub at his bearded chin. “You know what, Link?” He stepped forward and slapped Link on the back hard enough to send him painfully to his knees. “Oh, sorry about that. But I think you’re the first Hylian to ever save me. That makes you all right in my book.”

Link smiled painfully, standing back to his feet. He picked up his sword and used a piece of the moblin’s clothing to wipe his blade before sheathing it. “Thanks. Daruk, right?”

“That’s my name!”

Link had heard the name of Daruk, though he’d never met the Goron. Daruk was well-known for being a great warrior among the Goron people and had, indeed, helped many times in clearing away monsters around Death Mountain and in the Akkala Highlands. Curiously, however, Link would have expected such a great warrior to be conferencing with the other Goron warriors and Hylian knights in the city.

“Well, thanks for coming to my aid, Daruk.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” Daruk said, nodding. “Tell you what, brother. Let’s go back into the city. I was just up on the peak, looking for some rock roast, but I don’t feel like going all the way back up there. You feeling hungry?”

He couldn’t help but to smile up at the massive Daruk. He was Squire Link, after all. He was always hungry.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 “Brother?”

The memories flashed through Link’s mind in a rush. He could remember how they went down to the city and how Daruk told the knights about Link’s victory over the monsters, making him out to be a hero. When it came time to eat that night, Daruk had also insisted that Link be allowed to sit next to him as they ate, making Link the only squire allowed to eat with the knights and Goron warriors.

After all, Link was Daruk’s new brother. Of course, he should eat by his side.

“Brother, are you all right?”

Link blinked his eyes and came back to himself, looking around in confusion. Boldon was looking at him, frowning. How long had he been standing there, staring up at the monument to Daruk?

“Yeah, I’m… fine, Boldon. Thanks. I was just remembering something from another time I was here.”

“You’ve been here before?” Boldon frowned. “I thought you said you hadn’t.”

“It’s been a long time,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t remember a lot.”

Boldon seemed to accept his explanation and nodded, smiling broadly. “Well, come on! I’ll show you where you can stay while you’re here in Goron City.”

“Hey, Tray! We’ve got a customer coming through!” the older Goron, Volcon of the Rollin’ Rock Inn, called over his shoulder. He grinned at Link, giving him a thumbs-up as Boldon ushered Link inside. “If you want a massage, just let me know. You’ll feel as loose as gravel afterwards.”

Link couldn’t help but to think that a Goron massage sounded excruciating, but before he could respond, another Goron inside of the inn grinned broadly and called out to him.

Tray, like Volcon, was an older Goron, as evidenced by the wrinkles on his forehead and the way he carried himself with a slight bow to his back. The rocky texture on his back was more pronounced than on Boldon’s, and Link silently wondered if that was a sign of age as well. His white hair had been pulled into a small topknot, and his beard was wispy and thin.

“Welcome to the Rollin’ Rock Inn, brother!” he said with typical Goron enthusiasm. “You’re the first Hylian we’ve had up here in a while. Had a Gerudo last week, but she didn’t stay long. Couldn’t take the heat!” Tray laughed at what Link assumed had been a joke. When the old Goron’s laughs subsided, he leaned forward some. “So, you want a bed, right? Don’tcha worry now—we’ve got ourselves some soft beds for ya, and some complimentary elixirs thrown in.”

Link had finally downed the first fireproof elixir as they entered the city. It had been thick like sludge and foul tasting, but the relief it provided had been almost immediate. While he still felt the heat, it seemed far more manageable than it had been.

After Link agreed to a room, Boldon clapped him on the back nearly hard enough to send him sprawling. “Tell you what, brother—I’m going to go grab your stuff for you. After that, I can show you around some more.”

“Thanks, Boldon,” Link said, grateful for the Goron’s help. He turned back to Tray and placed a red rupee on the counter, which Tray gladly took from him.

“Now, how about that massage?”

“No, I think I’m all right,” Link said, glancing back towards Volcon, who stood just outside of the door. He watched as the large Goron cracked his knuckles, seemingly oblivious to the nervous look that Link gave him.

“New to the art of the Goron massage, eh?” Tray said, grinning. “It’s pretty good! Mostly pain-free.”

Mostly?

“It’s done on a hard rock bed. Pressure is applied to your whole body to squeeze out all of that tension. I’ll tell ya—it really doesn’t hurt one bit once you get used to it. Honestly, I doze off sometimes! And then, when it’s all over, you’ll sleep like a rock and feel great when you wake up. What do ya say?”

“Maybe next time,” Link said. “Right now, I really just need to drop some things off and go talk to someone about Divine Beast Vah Rudania.”

“Rudania?” Boldon said as he entered the inn again, carrying the cask of water with one massive arm, and holding a bundle of Link’s other effects in the other hand. “I don’t know if I can get you up to see Rudania, brother.”

Link felt a twinge of guilt for having kept his true purpose for coming to Goron City from Boldon. Perhaps it had been the distrust he felt after Delia’s betrayal, or perhaps he had just not wanted to deal with the questions that would inevitably follow. Now that he was here, though, he had little choice but to be honest.

“That’s why I’m here,” he said. “I’m going to stop Rudania from causing problems with Death Mountain and free it from Calamity Ganon’s control.”

As Boldon and Tray looked at each other in confusion—and proceeded to start laughing—Link wondered if he should have worded things a little differently. He pursed his lips, waiting for them to quiet.

“Brother, the Boss isn’t going to let ya up to see Rudania,” Boldon finally said once their chuckling died down. “He’s not even letting us Gorons go up there.”

“That’s right,” Tray said, nodding sagely. “It’s gettin’ too dangerous, even for us. There’s always new magma vents and rock slides. You’d never stand a chance.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Link said, trying to keep the edge of frustration from his voice. In truth, he probably should have waited until the next day before broaching the subject—he wasn’t in any shape to tackle the Divine Beast today after three days of hard travel up to the mountain. “Just let me talk to whoever is in charge.”

The Gorons looked at each other curiously before Boldon finally shrugged his large shoulders. “If you say so, buddy. I can take you over to him.”

Boldon led Link back out of the inn and along a winding path that took him to the other side of Goron City, opposite its entrance. They approached a strange building positioned on an upward slope. The building was made mostly of black volcanic rock in the form of huge slabs that had been laid against one another to form a hut-like structure. On top on it rose a massive black boulder that had been emblazoned with the symbol for the Gorons—a rough yellow diamond with three triangles arrayed across its top.

When they arrived, Boldon approached the building first, motioning for Link to stay where he was. Link remained standing in front of the building while looking around in curiosity at the city around him. The city seemed… familiar to him, yet he couldn’t place it. Once again, his memories came and went at seemingly random, triggered by any number of stimuli. Yet when he wanted to know more, they were often frustratingly absent.

He did notice, however, that he had begun to attract an audience. A younger Goron that only stood to about Link’s waist had stopped rolling down the incline into the city to look at him curiously. Not far away, one adult Goron reached up and smacked another Goron with the back of his hand, nodding towards Link. They both stared at him with little shame.

At least none of them had walked up to him, claiming to have known him one hundred years ago. How long did Gorons live for, anyway? Link couldn’t remember. It was possible that any Gorons that knew Link may have long since passed away. It was an odd feeling, thinking that he was a true stranger in this place. Every other place that he had been had at least one person that recognized him and could vouch for his identity.

He didn’t wait long until Boldon came back out of the stone hut, followed by another Goron. This Goron appeared shorter than Boldon due to the aged curvature of his back, but he looked anything but old and feeble. Instead, this Goron was a massive brute. He was far wider than Boldon in pure muscle. His arms were each easily thicker and longer than Link’s own body, and he looked to have hands that could wrap completely around Link’s torso. He was bald on top, but a ring of white hair began at the level of his eyebrows and continued down into a long, thick beard that had been tied into four different clumps. He only had one eye—the other was covered by an eyepatch that did not quite cover up old scars.

The Goron Boss, as Boldon had called him, was incredibly intimidating, especially since he fixed Link with a dark, single-eyed stare that didn’t particularly look very happy.

“You’re the one wanting to go up and see Rudania?” His voice, deep and gravely, seemed to cut through the bustle of Goron City, silencing those around them.

Link took a moment to find his voice and prepare his speech. “Yes. My name is—”

“No.” The Goron Boss turned to head back into his hut.

“Wait!”

The Boss stopped, and his shoulders heaved in a sigh. He turned back to Link and a painful wince passed over his face as he did so. “Look,” he said, fixing Link with an unreadable expression. “No one can go see Rudania. It’s too dangerous, even for Gorons. The best we can ever do is chase it off.”

Link took a deep breath, stepping closer to the Goron Boss, looking up at him. “I have to get on that Divine Beast. I can free it and stop it from causing so much instability with Death Mountain.”

The Boss snorted in derision. “Death Mountain’s a volcano. It’s unstable. Rudania just riles it up sometimes—we’ll chase it off like we always do.”

“It’s being controlled by Calamity Ganon and—” Link started, but the Goron Boss waved his hand dismissively again, beginning to turn back towards the hut. Link took a deep breath and took another step forward, placing a hand on the Goron’s arm. “I knew Daruk!”

The Boss stopped again, fixing Link with his beady stare. “What did you say?”

Link looked up into the Goron’s angry expression. “I knew Daruk. He was my friend.” He hesitated for a just a moment. “He called me brother.”

The Boss stared at Link, unreadable and dangerous. All of the other Gorons seemed to be listening now as well.

“My name is Link. I am the Hylian Champion charged with defeating Calamity Ganon. I’m here to finish what we started one hundred years ago. Rudania is being controlled by a creature created by Calamity Ganon, and Daruk’s spirit is trapped there as a result. I can free him. I can free both Daruk and Rudania.”

He fell silent. Everyone’s eyes were on him, but the only sound that he could hear was the slow sound of magma flowing under and through the city. The Goron Boss looked at Link for a long time before grunting and motioning for him to follow. He turned to walk back in his hut, but before he continued in, he paused to look at Boldon. “Go find Yunobo and bring him to me.”

“Got it, Boss!” Boldon said, energetically. His voice broke the spell over Goron City, and Link heard dozens of voices start up again, filling the air with a dull rumble. Link resisted the urge to grimace, reflecting that he couldn’t have remained a stranger for long.

When he followed the Goron Boss into his hut, he found the interior to be even hotter than outside—enough that it was uncomfortably hot, even with the fireproof elixir. It didn’t take him long to see why. At the center of the room was a chair, not unlike a throne, made from pieces of iron that had been fused together. On either side of it, magma flowed down into twin falls, pooling under the throne and flowing out underneath the hut. How could anyone stand to be in this place?

The Goron Boss didn’t seem to mind the heat, though. He walked over to the throne and sat down in it with a heavy groan, closing his eyes in apparent relief as he did so. When he opened them again, he fixed Link with another stare, but this one seemed more kindly.

“The name’s Bludo,” the Goron said. “You said you’re Link?” Link nodded slowly, stepping up to stand in front of Bludo. “Daruk mentioned you in his training journal. Even said you saved his life once.”

“Did you know Daruk?” Link asked, curious. This Goron seemed older now than he had first appeared.

The Goron elder snorted, shaking his head. “No, but my father did. He was the one that carved that big statue of Daruk out there.” He got a far-off look on his face for a time before fixing Link with another stare. “You’d better start from the beginning. I thought all the Champions were dead.”

Link nodded, having known that this was coming up. He was grateful to be able to do this out of earshot of the rest of the Gorons, at least. He gave Bludo an abridged version of his adventures thus far, explaining how he’d woken in the Shrine of Resurrection and had visited Zora’s Domain and freed their Divine Beast—and Mipha—from Ganon’s control. He had little in the way of proof outside of the Sheikah Slate, which didn’t seem to interest Bludo in the slightest. However, the massive Goron appeared to believe him, listening intently.

When Link finished his story, Bludo pulled at his beard, thoughtfully. Shortly after, another Goron entered the room. This one was younger than Bludo by far. He seemed more round than muscular, with only a small tuft of white hair atop his head. He had bright blue eyes and expressive eyebrows that rose high on his forehead in confusion when he saw Link.

“Hey, Boss, what’s up? I was just about to go to the Southern Mine to pick up your—”

Link stopped listening to the Goron’s voice, instead noticing what he was wearing. A familiar emblem in the form of the Goron symbol was tied around his neck by a length of light blue cloth. He knew that cloth. He remembered that cloth.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I officially appoint you Hyrule’s Champions and bestow upon you this sacred garb. That blue is a symbol, of the royal family—one that has been passed down for countless generations. Those garments you now wear were all crafted by my daughter, Zelda.”

“Do you think it’s true?” Link said, pinching some of the blue tunic he wore between his thumb and index finger, looking at its color. “That Princess Zelda actually sewed this?”

“I don’t see why not,” Daruk said, reaching down to touch the bolt of blue fabric that he’d wrapped around his torso. “Isn’t sewing something that your Hylian women do?”

Link chuckled. “Be careful who you say things like that around.” At Daruk’s confused expression, he reached out and patted the Goron’s arm. He could be a little clueless at times. It’s one of the reasons that Link enjoyed being around him so much. Daruk spoke from the heart.

He turned his attention back down to the blue fabric that he wore now, considering. “I doubt she sewed mine.”

“Why do you say that, brother?”

“Because she hates me,” His voice grew soft, and he shifted the sword on his back, trying to make it comfortable. It never seemed to sit right. He missed his old sword.

No one ever looked at that sword.

“Oh, don’t be crazy,” Daruk said, shaking his head. He slapped Link’s back hard, knocking the air from his lungs. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just stressed! She’s a princess—that’s a stressful job.”

Link gave his friend an incredulous look. How could he not see it? The looks that Princess Zelda gave him—or, other times, the looks she refused to give him. She had greeted each of them with warmth and kindness that day as she gave each of them their Champion’s garment—except for Link. He had been given a curt, “Sir Link,” before she practically shoved the tunic into his arms and turned away from him to address the others again.

The day had started pleasantly enough. It was supposed to be a day of celebration. Hyrule Castle had been decorated in sky blue banners to celebrate the occasion—the Champion appointment ceremony. Link had risen early, before any of the other knights, and had gone to bathe. His official duties had been put on hold that day due to his participation in the ceremony, allowing him some precious time alone. He got less and less of that solitary time lately.

Then the Champions began to arrive. The Zora contingent arrived with all the splendor and fanfare that was expected of them, swimming through the river in a brilliantly colorful formation, Mipha at their head. Leaping out of the water like salmon swimming upriver, the Zora’s wet scales shimmered in the morning light like precious gems. When Mipha emerged from the banks, she greeted the King and Princess Zelda first, and then her eyes had immediately sought Link’s.

The Gorons followed, arriving like a line of rolling boulders across the land. They rolled right through the center of Castle Town. Though they lacked the showmanship of the Zora, their speed of approach and size more than made them an intimidating sight to behold. When Daruk unfolded himself, he grinned far more broadly than decorum would had dictated, taking the King’s hand in both of his own and shaking enthusiastically. Then he hugged Princess Zelda—a sight that had been almost worth the day’s unpleasantness to see. She merely patted his arm uncomfortably, dwarfed by his massive size.

The Rito followed shortly after the Gorons. They flew in the air, carrying with them long, colorful streamers. Using these streamers, they put on a show over Castle Town, creating rainbows and other designs in the air. Revali outflew the rest of them by far, swooping low over the rooftops and dropping candy and flowers for the awaiting children, who screamed with delight. When Revali finally landed, he did so with dramatic flair, landing in a crouch with his wings outstretched to either side. Then he greeted the King and Princess Zelda with a deep bow and a flourish of his wings before meeting Link’s eyes—and giving him a look of utter disdain.

Finally, the Gerudo arrived. Riding in on their tall, slender desert horses, they approached more like a war band than a delegation, riding through Castle Town at speed, each armed with a curved sword and bejeweled shield. The women were dressed in an assortment of colors, and each wore enough jewelry to prosper a small nation. Urbosa rode at their head, approaching the Castle gate and rearing her horse back in just the right way to allow the sun to catch her fiery red hair. Then she dismounted and approached the king and princess, unsheathing her sword and bowing low with it held in the palms of her outstretched hands. When she rose, Link thought for sure he had caught something of a mischievous look pass between her and Princess Zelda.

What followed only seemed to cement the fact that Link did not want to be here. Lady Impa, the king’s Sheikah advisor and chief historian, gave them all the history lesson that they all knew by heart by this point. The old fight against Calamity Ganon, the Sheikah technology used to subdue it, the roles of the Hero, the Princess, and the Champions Four, and of course, the sealing of the beast. It had been an uncomfortable lesson, as they had all of those things that contributed to their victory, except for one. Likely the most important one. A princess with the ability to seal Calamity Ganon again.

Without that, it was very possible that everything they did was for naught. Princess Zelda’s posture during the proceedings spoke volumes of the pressure upon her. Link thought that he could relate, in a way. Though he had the Master Sword firmly strapped to his back, he felt woefully unprepared to actually use it in battle against the beast. If only he could find a way to actually say as much to the Princess. Every time he tried to speak with her when he passed her in the halls of the castle or out on the castle grounds, she either rebuffed him or he lost his nerve. What good would it do to admit to her that they were in even worse trouble than she already thought? But who else could he speak to about it?

Thankfully, Daruk had been there to brighten the mood. During the lessons, he had been the only one to speak up, asking questions of Impa. Questions like: “Do we know how big this Calamity Ganon guy is going to be?” and “Are you sure there isn’t another Divine Beast out there for the Hylians? Kind of strange that they don’t get one, if you ask me. And what about the Sheikah?” Each had the effect of easing the tension, whether or not that was Daruk’s intention.

Following the lesson, the Champions’ garments were each given by Princess Zelda in the room set apart for their preparation. Then each of the Champions, along with Link and Princess Zelda, gathered in the Sanctum and swore to King Bosphoramus to work together to defeat Calamity Ganon. He proclaimed them to be Champions of Hyrule, charging Princess Zelda to lead them against the threat of Calamity Ganon. It was striking that, in that moment, Princess Zelda had been the only one of their six to not be wearing a special Champions garment, instead wearing a royal blue dress. Set apart. Similar, but noticeably different.

The whole ceremony was given all the gravitas and ceremony that it probably deserved, and it had been utterly miserable for at least two involved.

“Brother?”

He blinked, coming back to the present and looking at Daruk’s concerned expression. “Sorry. I was distracted. Just thinking about…” Link sighed. “Everything.”

“You probably need to eat some food. Eating always helps me clear my mind.” Daruk nodded sagely.

Link smiled, feeling the warmth of affection for the Goron. He could be so simple at times, but Link didn’t think any less of him for that. To Daruk, things were simple. He lived his life to the fullest without worrying about what others thought of him or even what he would do tomorrow. Link wished he could live the same way. In some ways, he had lived that way before pulling the Master Sword. Simple. He missed simple.

“You’re probably right. I felt like I couldn’t eat very much during the feast. Too many people watching me. Us.”

Daruk raised his white eyebrows. “Really? I just ate like I always do.” He considered for a moment. “Was that wrong?”

The big Goron had eaten incredibly disruptively, crunching rocks between his teeth loudly enough to make conversation around their table—the head table in the feast hall—difficult. Not that there would have been much conversation anyway. Link was sure that some of the nobility and important guests in the hall had been giving Daruk disapproving looks, but he neither noticed nor cared.

“Not at all,” Link said, shaking his head. “I just didn’t have much of an appetite.”

“Well, that’s not like you at all! Are you feeling sick?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe you should talk to Mipha, then!”

“I don’t think her healing would work on this,” Link said, fingering the leather strap of the Master Sword slung across his chest.

Daruk fixed Link with his blue eyes, and Link suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that the Goron could see right through him. For all his simplicity and bluntness, Daruk could be surprisingly astute at times.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” he finally asked.

Link felt the tips of his ears grow warm. Always to the heart of the matter, Daruk. He quickly dropped his hand back to his side. “Yes.” He paused. “No. Not really. Every time I’m around her, she… Well, it’s like I said. She hates me. She doesn’t want me to talk to her.” Glumly, he added, “I’m not even sure I want to talk to her.”

“We’re all Champions. We’re all brothers—and sisters—now.”

“We’ll see, Daruk. We don’t exactly have reason to spend time around each other. She’s a princess. I’m a knight. Maybe if I become a royal guard like Father, but I’m not sure that’s what I want, anyway.” He preferred to be outdoors and disliked the times that he was expected to stand guard in some cold hallway of stone.

“Well, maybe you’ll get chosen to be Princess Zelda’s personal knight. She told me that they’re going to select the best swordsman in the country.”

Link closed his eyes, grimacing. “Don’t remind me. But I don’t think she would want me to be chosen. She would insist on it being someone else.”

Daruk placed a massive hand on Link’s shoulder, squeezing. “You’ll get there, brother. She will too. You two just need to learn to see the gems in the stone.”

Link didn’t respond, walking to one end of the stone gazebo they were standing under, directly under the castle in one of the many royal gardens. He leaned against one of the pillars, looking up towards Princess Zelda’s room and tower, far above them. He could see her on the rampart there, joined by Urbosa. She leaned against the parapet and looked down. Towards him.

Link felt his face grow hot, and he turned away, instead turning to look out over at the land stretching before them. He could see so far here. The land of Hyrule seemed to go on forever. What would happen to this wild and beautiful land, should he fail?

“Say, you know what you need?” Daruk scratched his hairy chin. “Now, hear me out here. You just picked up the Master Sword out and got recognized as a Champion, right?”

Link looked back at him, confused. “Basically, yeah.”

“So you didn’t really have a choice in the matter like we did.”

“Right.” Link’s lips formed a thin line.

“Well, you know, the Princess came and asked each one of us if we would be the Champions. I’m willing to bet that she never did so for you.”

“Daruk, there’s nothing to ask. I drew the sword. I was chosen or… something.” Child of Destiny. Chosen of the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Hero of Hyrule.

“Yeah, but she asked all of us. It made us a team, you know? But she never asked you.”

“Exactly. She never wanted me.”                            

“She never wanted the sword to be drawn.” Daruk smirked, knowingly. “I don’t think it has anything to do with you.” Link disagreed but said nothing. “Anyway, maybe we should get her to ask you. We can make it official that way.”

“But the king just asked me today. I accepted. In the ceremony.”

“But the princess didn’t.” Daruk nodded, slapping his hands together. “That’s it! I’ll talk to the princess today. We’ll all be there, and she can ask you formally to join us as the Hylian Champion. That’ll fix things, I bet.”

Link looked at Daruk, perplexed at how the Goron thought that would fix anything… but again, he often saw things in a more simplistic light. Maybe he would be right, ultimately. Link doubted it, but maybe. Of course, he wasn’t sure the princess would even deign to do such a task. She had made her feelings on him abundantly clear.

He looked back out, searching past the bustling Castle Town and Hyrule Field, finding the distant Great Plateau. It was so far away, yet he could just make it out, hazy in the distance. He hoped that it would be a long time before the sword on his back was needed. He feared that it wouldn’t be.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Yunobo was nothing like the giant that was Daruk. Where Daruk was imposing and powerful, Yunobo seemed smaller than his size would suggest. Where Daruk was loud, boisterous, and always had the ability to make Link laugh, Yunobo was quiet, nervous, and hesitant. It wasn’t that Link disliked the young Goron, but seeing him wear that sash—fashioned after the same one worn by Daruk all those years ago—felt wrong to Link. That cloth meant something one hundred years ago.

The youthful Goron was Daruk’s grandson. Link had no memory of Daruk as a father, but he supposed that he simply did not remember such details yet. The Goron had appeared to be older than the rest of them—save for Mipha, perhaps. Yet, for as little as Link could remember of the big Goron, he did not see much of Daruk in his descendant.

He sighed, turning over in his bed at the Rollin’ Rock Inn. He felt as though the effects of the fireproof elixir had begun to wear off, and the temperature in the open room was steadily climbing. Even lying on top of the bedding, Link was sweating, unable to get comfortable.

Bludo had insisted that Yunobo accompany Link to visit Rudania. It wasn’t something that either Link or Yunobo seemed altogether pleased with, though the young Goron had accepted without verbal complaint. Yunobo, Bludo claimed, knew how to work the cannons that they used to drive Rudania off when the machine got too close to the prime spots to collect good rock roast. They would have to hit the Divine Beasts with enough cannon fire to drive it back down into the mouth of Death Mountain, where he said it would be easiest place for Link to board it, once Link revealed the existence of the paraglider. He had no idea how Link would get back out, but Link assured him that would not be a problem.

When Link had brought up the danger involved, thinking back to the way that Ruta had attempted to kill Link and Sidon before it had been freed, Bludo laughed, patting Yunobo on the back. He exclaimed that Yunobo was perfectly capable of defending himself and left it at that, allowing no further arguments.

In truth, Link hadn’t wanted to argue further at that point, thoughts of the memory he’d seen upon coming face to face with Yunobo swirling around in his mind like a swarm of biting gnats. He had needed to get away from the other two Gorons. He’d needed to be alone with his thoughts.

The Champions. The princess. The apparent disdain that Princess Zelda felt towards Link, and the reciprocal feelings he had for her. What had happened between them that made them dislike each other in those earlier times? Link wished he knew. What he saw had been a far cry from what he experienced at the Spring of Power, and it bothered him that the two glimpses into his past were at such odds with each other.

He wondered if Daruk was right in the end. Perhaps Link had eventually approached Princess Zelda with the anxiety that he felt about their shared destiny. Maybe she had come to him, instead, expressing anguish over her lack of sealing power. It seemed likely to him that they had somehow gotten over their differences before Link had been assigned as her personal knight, or she would have rejected his assignment. At least, he had expected that she would do so in the memory. He wished he still had Daruk nearby to speak to about it.

He closed his eyes, experiencing a stab of remorse at the thought. Daruk and Mipha. The two Champions that he had any real knowledge of. Their loss felt all the more tragic and painful, though Link still only had a handful of clear memories of either of them. They had both been his friends. And they were gone.

Link sat up in his bed, sliding his legs off the edge, and placing his feet on the floor. Thick carpeting had been laid out to prevent him from burning his feet on the hot stone that made up much of Goron City’s ground, but he could still feel its warmth through the carpet. Link walked over to a shelf, where a number of glass jars had been laid out, each full of the same grey sludge. He unstopped one of them and downed the elixir, feeling its effects shortly thereafter. The carpet did not seem as warm anymore. The air wasn’t as sweltering. His sweat suddenly felt cooler on his skin than it had a few moments before.

Link walked over to where he had laid out his clothes, pulling on his tunic and trousers before slipping his feet into his boots. He walked as silently as he could out of the inn, out into the mostly-quiet city.

Goron City had an orange glow to it in the night. Magma still flowed through it similar to the way a stream of water might bisect a village like Hateno. Far above Goron City, Death Mountain rose, shining brilliantly with evidence of recent eruptions. Even the smoke rising from its open mouth glowed with the light of the lava in its depths. It looked dangerous and unwelcoming.

A shiver ran down his spine as Link realized that he could very well perish on the next day. It was a sobering thought, though he also thought it to be simultaneously ridiculous. He had nearly died several times since awakening, mostly recently by an assassin’s blade. He didn’t think that he feared death any longer, yet the thought still came. He would attempt to free Divine Beast Vah Rudania tomorrow. He would either succeed or die trying.

He focused on Death Mountain. Rudania crawled up there somewhere, ever present. Narrowing his eyes, Link glared towards the fiery peak. He had already died once. He would not fear facing that death again. Especially if it meant avenging a brother.

“So you really knew Daruk?” Yunobo asked as he and Link circled the path around Monument Rock and walked towards Death Mountain. The air already seemed to be getting hotter as their elevation increased.

They had passed by a massive lake of magma—the northern mine that the Gorons used to get some of their best ore from. It was abandoned now, however, thanks to Rudania. The increased magma flow had quickly cut off most of the mine. It would take a long time to ever be able to use the mine again, even if they managed to stop the constant eruptions.

Link looked over at Yunobo, trying again, but failing to see much of Daruk in the Goron. “I did. He was a good friend.” He frowned some, looking away. “From what I can remember.”

All that Yunobo said in response was, “Oh,” before he fell silent once more.

Link wore his blue Champion’s tunic, but no excess armor or shirt under the tunic. His armor had done little to protect him during his previous encounter in Vah Ruta, so it made little sense to worry about it now. He had donned a pair of gloves and tied his hair back with a bandana to better keep sweat from dripping into his eyes.

He carried his bow and arrows, including the ancient arrows provided to him by Robbie. He left his Zora sword at the inn, instead opting to just bring the ancient sword at his waist. His Sheikah shield remained strapped to his back, however. He also carried the paraglider, which he had wrapped in a leather sheath to keep it protected from the elements.

Yunobo looked the same as he did the day before, including the Champion’s sash wrapped around his neck like a kerchief. The ruby Goron symbol rested on his chest, held in place by the two ends of the Champion’s garment. Today, however, he also carried a large bag full of water on his shoulders, and he had slung a smaller bag on one arm that was full of fireproof elixirs. Link appreciated it, as it meant less to weigh him down on the climb, which was already promising to be difficult.

Link allowed the silence to stretch between them for a time, letting his eyes wander around the barren landscape around them. Though it was barren of plant life, he found that it was not lifeless. Various lizards and insects scuttled across the hot rocks as if they did not even feel the heat, and he even saw a bizarre species of bird nearby that looked to be as tall as he was with long legs and an equally long neck. He didn’t see any of the larger dodongos along this path, however.

“What was he like?”

Link frowned and looked back, finding the Goron with his eyes down, tapping his thick fingers against his legs nervously. “Well, I don’t… really have a lot of memories of him.” Yet he thought he knew exactly what Daruk was like. “But he was strong. And kind.”

“That’s what everyone always says about him. Boss is always telling me that I need to try to be more like him, but when I ask what he was like, he tells me that he was strong and kind.” Yunobo looked up, meeting his eyes. “But no one knows what he was really like.”

Oh.

Link immediate shame for his thoughts regarding the Goron. He was certainly different than Daruk, but Link knew something of trying to live up to an impossible expectation.

“Well… I think he is probably the friendliest person that I remember. And he wasn’t just nice to people—he wanted to help them too. He always wanted to find a way to fix things.” As Link spoke, he found that the words started to come easier. Details that he hadn’t known a few minutes ago suddenly grew clear. “He protected people. If he ever saw anyone in need, he would rush to their aid.” A smile crossed his lips. “That’s how we met.”

“He saved you?”

“I…” He hesitated. “Yeah, he did. Well, we saved each other. Somewhere around Death Mountain. He saw me fighting some monsters alone and rolled all the way down from the peak to help me.”

“Wow… I wish I was that brave.” Yunobo looked up towards Death Mountain. “Anytime I see a monster, I just… freeze up.”

“Daruk was terrified of dogs,” Link said, and then his eyes widened. He remembered that.

“What?”

“Dogs,” he repeated, smiling more broadly now. “He hated them. He would react… just like you, actually. He hated walking through Castle Town because dogs always followed him around.”

“But dogs aren’t scary at all! I’ve seen them before, down at the trading outpost.”

“We’re all scared of something.” Link shrugged. “Daruk was scared of dogs. I think they chased him when he was younger.”

A new memory blossomed in his head. He could picture Daruk in his mind, standing with his back against the large fountain in the fountain square of Castle Town, arms raised to his chest-level, trying to shoo no less than four dogs that had all come running towards him, barking merrily.

“Are you okay?” Yunobo asked.

Link blinked the memory away and was surprised to find moisture at the corners of his eyes. The tears evaporated almost immediately, leaving a salty residue that he wiped away.

“Yeah, just… I really thought of him like a brother. Now that I’m starting to remember him again, I miss him.”

“I feel like that when I think of my dad sometimes,” Yunobo said, nodding. He smiled faintly. “But I try to just think of the good times I had with him.”

“What happened to him?”

“Mining accident. A cave in the south mine collapsed on him.” The young Goron looked over at Link. “He died when I was pretty young, so I don’t really remember many things about him either. But what I remember is good.”

“Yeah, I…” Link tried to clear his throat, but the lump that he felt there wouldn’t go away. “I guess that’s what I should do to. Just try to remember the good times with Daruk.”

The young Goron frowned, looking concerned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I didn’t think about the fact that you were friends with him…”

“No!” Link said, quickly, shaking his head vigorously. “I’m glad to talk about him. It… helps me remember him.”

“Oh! Then maybe you could tell me more about him. If you don’t mind.”

Link smiled at the young Goron and began to do just that.

Link carefully bounded over the stream of lava that crossed their path, feeling the powerful wave of heat as he passed over its mottled black and orange surface. Once past, he turned back to look at Yunobo, who simply walked across its surface without much concern, his feet sinking into the shallow stream of molten rock as he did so.

“I didn’t know that Gorons could do that,” he said, eyebrows raised as Yunobo shook the remaining molten rock from his feet once across.

“That wasn’t so bad. It’s cooled off a lot, see?” He pointed to the black spots that covered much of the lava’s surface. “We don’t usually wade in it, but a little thing like that isn’t bad.”

“So Gorons don’t go swimming in Death Mountain, I take it?”

“What’s swimming?”

Link grinned. Before he could reply, though, he heard a terrible roar emitting from high above them on Death Mountain. He looked up, his heart sinking at the sight of Rudania on the slope above them.

Its four feet perpetually burned, the individual toes masked by the flames that rose up around them. The feet were at the ends of its long, flexible legs that reminded Link a great deal of Guardians, except magnitudes larger. Its body was long and slender, though largely flat on its upmost level, ending on one side by a long, angular head that ended in a point. It had lizard-like spines raised above its back that continued down its segmented tail.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Yunobo said, dread creeping into his voice. “I think it saw us!”

Rudania made another roaring sound, throwing its red-eyed head back before sweeping its tail along the side of the mountain. This action swept the side of the mountain clean, throwing boulders and chunks of molten rock into the air.

“Run!” Link broke into a sprint down the path. It took only a few seconds before the debris began to fall around him. It began with a spray of gravel-sized stones that pelted his arms and face, followed by a massive rock larger than his head striking the ground in front of him. He swerved around the rock, only to feel the ground beneath him shudder violently as a massive boulder hit the path right behind him.

The air filled with dust and flying stones. All around him, rocks and boulders began to hit the ground, each one causing the ground to shudder violently enough to nearly knock Link off his feet. He quickly ducked behind one of the boulders, but not before he felt a sudden flare of pain on his arm. He glanced down, eyes widening when he saw the orange globule of lava clinging to his forearm. He brushed it off as quickly as he could, already seeing an angry red patch of burned skin underneath. When he looked at the fingertips of his glove, he wasn’t surprised to see that the leather had been charred in the process.

He remained behind the boulder as the rumbling continued around him. He watched as one boulder the size of a small house suddenly rolled past him and his comparably smaller boulder, continuing on down the slope. If that had hit the rock he was hiding behind…

Yunobo! Link’s whirled and looked around desperately for his traveling companion. Where was Yunobo? It was hard to make out anything in the sudden dusty haze filling the air. With rising panic, Link risked stepping out from behind the boulder and cupping his hands over his mouth, calling for the young Goron. He received no response.

Feeling the rumble of another approaching boulder, Link ducked behind his shelter again, closing his eyes tightly. It crashed into another boulder, sending them both tumbling down the hill. Breathing a sigh of relief, Link looked back out, eyes scanning the mountain path for any sign of Yunobo.

“Yunobo!” Still nothing. Gritting his teeth, Link looked back up towards Death Mountain. He could barely make out the shape of Rudania far above him, but the onslaught of falling rocks and lava had ceased for the time being.

He risked running out from behind his boulder, ducking behind another one, holding his breath after doing so. No roars followed, however. No falling boulders. He did so again, using the dust-filled air to his advantage before it settled. With each step he took back in the direction they had come, the more terrified he became. There was no sign of the Goron.

Above him, Rudania had apparently been satisfied with the destruction it caused. It roared again and began walking along the side of the mountain again, away from them. Link broke into a sprint now, weaving between rocks and puddles of lava, until he came upon a huge pile of rocks that had completely obscured the path—a rockslide.

“Yunobo!” Link called as he halted, looking around desperately.

“Is it gone?” The voice was muffled. Eyes widening, Link realized that it came from under the rockslide.

“Hold on! I’ll get you out of there!” He quickly began to scoop loose rocks from on top of the rockslide, throwing them away. How long could Yunobo survive under the stone? Was he injured? Unbidden, images of a faceless Goron that he imagined to be Yunobo’s father appeared in Link’s mind—killed in a tunnel collapse. He dreaded that the same might happen to that Goron’s son.

Suddenly the rocks began to shift and tremble. Link stepped back as the surface of the rock pile sank inward, as if a hole had opened up underneath it. As the rocks fell into the hole, Link spotted a curled form in its center, almost indistinguishable from the stone surrounding him.

“Yunobo!”

Yunobo lifted his head, looking around, and then stood. He reached up, brushing pieces of rock out of his tuft of white hair, and straightened his Goron medallion. “Wow!” he said as he walked forward, pushing a path through the loose rock. “That was close.”

Link breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes. “I’m glad you’re all right. For a moment, I thought…”

“Oh! Yeah, I was…” Yunobo looked suddenly embarrassed, eyes turning down. “I mean, I’m glad you’re safe too.”

“Is that Rudania’s defense mechanism?”

“Oh, it can do some other stuff as well. We’re probably lucky that it didn’t cause another eruption.”

Link grimaced, looking up the mountain towards Rudania’s retreating back. Great, he thought. He didn’t really think things would get much worse than spikes of ice being flung at him.

“Are you able to keep going?” Link asked, turning back to look at Yunobo.

The younger Goron hesitated, looking nervously up towards the Divine Beast. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, we’re not far now.”

Link turned, continuing on down the path, Yunobo following behind him, strangely silent. He had picked back up the bags of water and elixirs. As they weaved around the boulders that littered the path now, the Goron finally spoke again, his voice soft. “I wish I could be brave like my grandfather.”

“Courage isn’t…” Link looked back, trying to figure out exactly what he could say to the boy. “It’s not the absence of fear, Yunobo.”

“You don’t seem very afraid.”

Link laughed a little bitterly. “I’m terrified of a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Failure.” Silence fell between them for a time before Link cleared his throat, speaking again. “We both almost just died—a lesser man would have refused to continue on after that. But you’re still with me. That takes courage.”

“That’s just because I want… I want to help you. I wouldn’t be able to do this if it were just me.”

Link smiled at this, hearing echoes of Daruk in the young Goron’s words. “Why do you think I’m here? I mean,” Link laughed, waving his hand toward the very boulder he hid behind during the attack by Rudania. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. I’m here to help people. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Yunobo quieted, but after a few moments, he stepped up to walk beside Link again. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like the Goron walked a little taller than before.

“You can come out now,” Link called as he deactivated his sword. Around the large cannon, several bodies belonging to a group of lizalfos lay bleeding. Yunobo stepped out from behind the rock that he’d been hiding behind, looking at the carnage around them.

They had come upon the lizalfos as they reached their destination—a rocky outcrop that extended out from the mountain. A strange structure made of rock and iron had been constructed upon it—a squat building with a long opening cut into its front, facing towards the peak of Death Mountain. The lizalfos had apparently taken up residence in the building but came rushing out when alerted to Link’s presence.

The battle that ensued had been fierce, but brief. Thinking back to the tactics that he used when fighting the lizalfos in his memories, Link quickly dispatched the creatures while deftly avoiding their fire breath.

He bent down to pick up one of the lizalfos fallen weapons—a bladed boomerang, just like he remembered from the past. The lizalfo hadn’t even had a chance to fling it at Link before being killed.

“That sword is really something,” Yunobo said as he approached.

Link looked back at him and smiled. “It’s pretty good. I got it from a friend of mine who studies ancient Sheikah technology.”

“Like the Divine Beasts?”

“That’s right. His focus was on the Guardians, though. And their weapons.” Robbie studied Guardians. Purah studied the Sheikah Slate and Shrines. Impa was, apparently, a historian and expert on Ancient Sheikah culture, if his memory was correct. Absently, Link wondered if there was someone else who specialized in studying the Divine Beasts themselves.

He turned and threw the bladed boomerang off the mountain, watching as it spun through the air, arcing back around towards him. Narrowing his eyes, he watched its trajectory, stepping out of its way. His breathing slowed as he watched it approach, preparing. Time seemed to slow. Link thrust his hand out, fingers wrapping deftly around the handle and stopping its motion.

“Wow.” Yunobo clapped his hands together, grinning at Link. “Good job! I would have been afraid that I would cut my fingers!”

“Yeah,” Link said, musing. It had felt as though time had slowed in that moment before he caught the boomerang. He could have sworn that he could see every detail of it as it approached—the orange light of Death Mountain reflected on its sharpened edges, the spots of blood on one of its three blades, the wrapped leather of its handle. “I have a little bit of experience with these, though.”

Link walked back to the lizalfo that had wielded the boomerang, finding the pouch that it used to sheathe the deadly weapon. He carefully extracted the pouch from the lizalfo before roughly attaching it to his own belt. It would do for the time being.

“Oh, gross!”

Link turned back to see that Yunobo had approached the squat building, peering down into it from an opening around its backside, facing away from the volcano. He walked over and looked into the doorway, surprised to see that the building had actually been built down into the rock. Though the outer structure appeared squat and short, the interior was actually quite spacious—it was just mostly underground.

Inside the building, Link could see several old skins recently shed from the lizalfos and the bloody remains of one of the tall running birds that Link had seen on the mountain, along with some other things that he preferred not to look or think about. He also saw a large metal tube on a rotating track, with one end aimed out of the opening in the opposite wall. The massive Goron cannon.

He stepped slowly inside, boots coming down on some of the filth inside, looking at the cannon with a critical eye. “How do you work this?” He spotted a stockpile of large cannonballs sitting against one wall. They looked heavy enough that he thought he would have difficulty loading them into the cannon.

Yunobo gingerly stepped into the structure, avoiding what he could of the refuse on the floor. He walked over to one of the cannonballs, picking it up with apparent ease in one hand. “Well, we shoot these at Rudania.” He crossed the room to stand by the cannon, where he slid open a compartment and dropped the cannonball into it with a loud clang.

“How does it fire?”

“That’s where the bomb flowers come in.”

“Bomb flowers?”

Yunobo motioned towards another doorway in the structure that led to another chamber deeper underground. They both stepped down into that room, finding more refuse left behind by the lizalfos, but also a small plot of overturned dirt. Growing out of the dirt were a handful of large, round plants, each roughly the size of a melon, but dark in color with pale yellow blooms on their tops.

“This isn’t good,” the Goron said, looking at the handful of plants. “They must have been here for a while. A lot of the bomb flowers are gone. They’re lucky they didn’t blow themselves up.”

Link crouched to look at the strange plant. Reaching out, he touched one of them, finding its skin to be surprisingly solid. “These are explosives?”

“Yep! We usually use them down in the mine—they don’t grow well in sunlight. That’s why we had to make these side rooms in the bunkers to grow them near the cannons.”

“How do they work?”

“They’re pretty simple, really.” Yunobo crossed over the upturned dirt, bending down and plucking one of the bomb flowers from its roots. He held it out to Link in one hand. “You can hold it. It shouldn’t explode as long as you don’t drop it or shake it too hard.”

Shouldn’t? Link thought as he hesitantly reached out and took the explosive plant from Yunobo’s outstretched hand. It was heavier than its size would have suggested—heavier, certainly, than his own remote bombs created by the Sheikah Slate.

“You can blow them up a couple ways. We used to use fuses, but we figured out a better way.” Yunobo motioned for Link to follow, and he did, walking back into the main room of the bunker. Yunobo took the bomb flower from him, gently placing it into another compartment in the cannon, set behind the compartment that held the cannonball. Once he closed this compartment, he motioned to a small lever to one side of the cannon.

“If you pull that lever, it will slide a trapdoor out from under the cannonball, and then it will roll back and squish the bomb flower. That will make the bomb flower explode and…” Yunobo slapped his hands together and then thrust his hand out to indicate the trajectory of the cannonball.

“Doesn’t Rudania retaliate?” They were further up the mountain than they had been when they were attacked earlier, leaving Link feeling exposed.

“Well… yes,” Yunobo said, sounding suddenly more nervous. “But that’s why we built these bunkers. They can usually withstand a few boulders.”

“Why doesn’t it just come down here and destroy the bunker with its tail?” Link doubted that the structure would withstand directly confrontation with the Divine Beast.

“It doesn’t come down this low on the mountain for some reason,” Yunobo said, looking out of the opening to the volcano. Rudania wasn’t currently visible, having circled around to the other side of Death Mountain. “But it’s still not very safe. We actually passed two other cannons on the way up here. They got flooded with lava. We’ve been trying to send Gorons up to clear them out and make repairs, but it’s been really aggressive lately. Way more dangerous than it used to be. Boss got injured the last time he tried to chase it off.”

“Great,” Link said, exhaling slowly. “Well, let’s get things ready for when it comes back around the mountain.”

He really wasn’t sure about this plan. He watched the Divine Beast make its slow way around the slope of Death Mountain, occasionally pausing and roaring or swiping its tail along the mountain and sending debris raining down on whatever poor creatures it had seen. He couldn’t help but to think that there should have been a better way to do this. He could have climbed to the peak, for example, and just tried to glide down onto the Divine Beast, perhaps. Of course, it would have likely been impossible to fight the creature controlling it due to its extreme angle.

Still, though. Sitting in a partially underground bunker and firing cannonballs at it just felt like a poorly thought out plan. Especially when it became clear to Link that Yunobo had not actually done this before.

“Well, I’ve used the cannons at the northern mine, so I know how to use them,” the Goron said defensively, eyes widening.

“But you’ve never actually chased Rudania off with them?”

“Well, no… The Boss always handled that.”

“Then why didn’t he come?” Link said, feeling his irritation growing. He didn’t mind youth’s presence—not after getting to know him during their trek up the volcano. But it seemed reckless of Bludo to send someone so inexperienced.

Yunobo looked away, wringing his fingers together. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” The edge in Link’s voice grew harder. Now really wasn’t the time to be revealing more information. Not when they were mere moments from opening fire on the Divine Beast.

“The Boss, he, uh… Remember when I told you he got hurt the last time he tried to drive Rudania off?” When Link just looked expectantly at Yunobo, the Goron sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Well, it’s his back. He got hit with a boulder. It almost killed him, but he doesn’t want everyone to worry. It’s really difficult for him to get around right now.”

Link frowned at this. He hadn’t detected any indication of injury when talking to Bludo earlier. “He seemed fine when I was talking to him.”

“Right! That’s because he was trying not to let on how hard it is for him to stand and walk. But he couldn’t make it up the mountain. That’s why he hasn’t come back up to try to drive Rudania off again since.”

Link grimaced, looking back out of the cannon opening, up towards Rudania. “But you can hit it?”

“I think so. I’m not usually firing at… moving targets.”

Link sighed. “Well, I suppose now’s as good a time as any to start.” He looked back at Yunobo and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay…” Yunobo took a deep breath, bouncing a little on his heels. “You might want to cover your ears.” Link glanced at the cannon and then stepped to the side, away from the cannon’s barrel. He pressed his hands to his ears.

Yunobo carefully rotated the platform that the cannon sat on and then adjusted its height, peering up towards Rudania. Once satisfied, he covered the small earholes on either side of his head and kicked the lever to release the cannon. The cannon’s barrel flashed with white light.

BOOM.

The explosion from the cannon nearly jarred Link off his feet. The thunderous sound struck him—nearly deafening, even with his ears covered, and strong enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He stumbled, reaching out and catching the lip of the opening to steady himself, and looked up, following the trail of black smoke that arced through the air. It appeared to have struck high, above Rudania’s head on the mountain.

“Too high!” Link called, but his voice was drowned out by a sudden, angry roar by Rudania.

Yunobo had seen what he needed, though, and used a crank to reduce the cannon’s angle. He then turned, grabbing another cannonball and loading it. Link, in turn, picked up a bomb flower and set it carefully into the bomb compartment. The whole room smelled of the acrid smoke that bellowed from that opening.

Once the cannon was ready, Link leaned against the wall and covered his ears again, nodding to Yunobo. A moment later, the cannon fired again, rattling Link’s teeth. He watched the ball fly, following it as it crashed into the side of the mountain, just between Rudania’s front and back legs.

Link cursed, but Yunobo was already moving, reloading the cannon with surprising quickness. Rudania, in the meantime, began to stomp its feet. Far above them, Death Mountain suddenly erupted, sending molten rock and smoke high into the air. Link threw himself back from the window as the first splatters of lava began to fall around their bunker.

The cannon fired again—Yunobo had loaded the bomb flower without his help—and Link had been unprepared for the explosion of sound that hit his unprotected ears. Stunned, he rose, looking around with wide eyes. Yunobo looked out the window and suddenly thrust a hand into the air in triumph, bellowing something, but Link couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything but a ringing noise.

Link shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing, but to no avail. He approached the window and looked out, seeing a spot of black smoke rising from Rudania’s face, where a cannon had struck right beneath its glowing red eye. That was good. What wasn’t good was the stream of lava that now slipped out the mountain’s side, heading straight for them.

He looked back to Yunobo to tell the Goron about it but almost just managed to get his hands in place again, covering his ears as Yunobo fired the cannon once more. Link spun, watching the cannonball as it sailed through the air and slammed into one of Rudania’s outstretched front feet. Rudania lost its purchase, slipping and collapsing with an earth-shaking crash.

Well, at least Link could hear that.

“Yeah!” he heard Yunobo yell. But any celebrations were far too premature, as Rudania slowly rose back to its feet, seemingly unharmed.

“Hit it again!” Link yelled.

“Last one!” Yunobo cried. Link whirled, seeing the single remaining bomb flower in Yunobo’s outstretched hand. Link nodded. It was time to see if his plan worked. And they had to do it quickly—the stream of lava was still rolling down the side of Death Mountain, slowly approaching their position.

Yunobo fired the cannon again, his aim true as the cannon struck the side of Rudania’s body. The Divine Beast roared, and far above it, lava burst into the air again. Several new fissures and cracks appearing in the side of the volcano, spewing molten rock out in smaller streams.

Link backed away from the opening as lava and rock fell all around them, and quickly pulled the Sheikah Slate from his waist. He hit the remote bomb rune, and with a flash of blue light, one of the round bombs appeared on the ground in front of him. He picked it up and held it out to Yunobo.

Yunobo took it, staring at the explosive with wide eyes. “Load it!” Link cried, snapping Yunobo out of his reverie. He quickly shoved it down into the opening, sliding the door closed. Without waiting for Link to cover his ears, Yunobo hit the lever to open the trap door…

And nothing happened… They could hear the door slide open and the cannonball roll down to strike the bomb, but no explosion. He and Yunobo looked at each other, momentarily confused, before Link’s eyes widened. He grabbed the Sheikah Slate back off his waist and hit the blue Remote Bomb Rune.

There was a flash of blue out of the cannon’s muzzle as the cannonball fired out with every bit of velocity and power as it had with the bomb flowers. The explosion did not seem nearly as loud, though, which was a relief—he couldn’t very well cover his ears if he had to manipulate the Sheikah Slate.

Outside, the Divine Beast roared. Link looked back out of the window and noticed with a shock that the lava flow had gotten even closer now. How much time did they have before it was upon them? Not enough. Rudania continued to roar and fling boulders down towards them, still largely unharmed by the cannon fire.

“Yunobo, we need to go!” Link called, turning back around to look at the other Goron. Yunobo looked outside, his eyes wide with terror. He danced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fingers twitching rapidly on either of his hands.

Finally, he took a deep breath and looked at Link. “Keep firing the cannon! I think I can stop it.”

“What?” But before Link could say anything else, Yunobo turned and ran outside. “Yunobo!”

He whirled to look back out of the window as Yunobo ran around to the front of the structure to a boulder that was roughly his size that had fallen near the front of the bunker. He pressed against it, grunting, and it began to move, rolling slowly towards where their outcrop met with the slope of the mountain. He pushed it into place and then immediately turned, running back towards another of the boulders that had been flung at them.

Link forced his attention away from Yunobo’s efforts, turning back and reaching to grab one of the cannonballs. It didn’t budge. Cursing, Link pulled out his Sheikah Slate, entering the Magnesis Rune, and selecting the cannonball. Slowly, it lifted into the air with very little effort on Link’s part—though the Sheikah Slate did suddenly seem heavier than it had before. He carefully maneuvered it over to the cannon and dropped it down into the appropriate slot. He switched to the Remote Bomb and loaded that as well. Imitating how he’d seen Yunobo activate it, he kicked the lever—which resisted his leg far more than he had expected—and then blew the bomb.

The cannon fired, sending another ball of solid iron into the flank of the Divine Beast. This time, it started to slowly turn to face them, and Link saw with some horror that its segmented head was starting to open like blooming flower. He… he knew what that was. He knew exactly what that was. And what it meant for him.

Outside, Yunobo placed another boulder in place, and went back for a third, but there was no time. The magma was upon them. It crashed into the boulders with enough force to cause them to shift back in the direction of the bunker. Yunobo cried out, turning around and rushing back, throwing both of his hands up and digging his feet into the dirt behind him, adding his own strength to the boulders. Magma splashed up and over, some of it falling on his outstretched arms and back, but he only ducked his head and pressed harder. The magma began to flow around the boulders, angling to either side of the bunker.

It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last. Even if Yunobo could hold the magma back indefinitely, the attack that was about to come would end them both. Link loaded another cannonball and went to close the compartment… but then he hesitated. One shot. One more shot.

He had an idea.

He switched to the Stasis rune.

A moment later, he loaded the Remote bomb and blew it. Though the bomb’s explosion rocked the room, the cannonball did not fire. He opened the bomb compartment, the door of which was incredibly hot to the touch, and loaded another bomb. He slammed the compartment shut and blew the second bomb. Seconds. Seconds left. He created another bomb and loaded it, blowing it a split second after loading the bomb. The door to the bomb compartment blew off, flying up and lodging deep into the stone of the ceiling.

Link supposed that would have to do.

A second later, the Stasis rune ran out and the cannonball shot out with the sound of an incredibly loud thunderclap, sending Link stumbling back, momentarily deafened. He could still see, though.

Rudania’s head had opened completely and a red ball of light was forming at the end of a rod that protruded out from the center of its opening. Suddenly there was an explosion of light, followed by sound, against one of its head fins. Rudania jolted violently with the force of it, actually rising up onto its back two legs briefly before collapsing back down with an earth-shaking crash.

A column of black smoke rose from where the cannonball had struck. For a time, Rudania didn’t move, its front legs splayed out to either side. Then it began to move again, but more slowly now. It rose back to its feet, and its head began to close, though the fin that the cannonball had struck didn’t move, remaining open. It turned away from Link and Yunobo, slowly climbing up the mountain towards Death Mountain’s peak, which had abruptly stopped erupting.

Breathing heavily, Link slowly approached the cannon opening, looking out at Yunobo. He trembled with the exertion, but the boulders he pressed his hands against held. The air around him seemed to shimmer with a strange, orange glow, but it was difficult to make anything out with the hazy dust that fell around him. The molten rock rolling down the mountain continued to flow, but it has slowed now that its source no longer added to it. Thanks to his efforts, lava flowed to either side of the boulders, with the space immediately behind them free of the molten rock.

Slowly, Yunobo stepped back from the boulders, which were no longer being pressed back. The lava on the other side of them had cooled enough, forming a more solid barrier to the remaining oncoming flow, redirecting it further. The Goron looked up with amazement at the retreating back of Divine Beast Vah Rudania as it crested the mountain and laboriously climbed down into the maw.

Yunobo exhaled heavily and turned, sitting on the ground with his back against the boulders. Link met his eyes and smiled, feeling utterly exhausted. After a moment, he raised a hand and gave Link a thumbs-up, calling out, “That was so cool!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Five

“No one has ever tried to board Rudania after driving it back into the volcano,” Yunobo said, looking down into the maw of Death Mountain.

The aftermath of the battle left the both of them exhausted, and they had agreed to rest for a time before beginning the climb up to the peak. In that time, Yunobo had informed him that Rudania had never fought so hard before. It usually only took two or three cannon shots before it would retreat back into Death Mountain, only to emerge a few days later to cause problems again. It used to retreat for months at a time, but that changed several weeks ago.

He had never seen it open its head before. That was new to Yunobo, yet Link was certain that it wasn’t new to him. He’d seen it do it before, though the memory was indistinct. But he was fairly certain that he knew what its purpose was, even without clear memory.

They finally began the climb up to the peak of Death Mountain, which was just another chore in itself, though Yunobo’s presence had helped immensely. He had Link tie a rope around his waist and then went ahead, climbing with apparent ease and then helping Link do so after him.

When they reached the peak, the two of them had looked down into the volcano. Rudania rested deep within it, seemingly floating atop a shining bed of magma a hundred feet down or so. It had turned its head so that the open fin was angled vertically, safe from the magma that surrounded it.

“Well, defeating the Divine Beast was just the first step,” Link said, pulling back from the volcano. Even with the fireproof elixir, leaning over into the volcano felt akin to holding his hand above a fire. It was bearable, but extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking forward to going in there. “Now I have to go down and destroy the monster controlling it.”

Yunobo shuddered, stepping back from the edge of the opening. “I hate monsters,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Link placed a hand against Yunobo’s arm. “You don’t have to come with me to do this. I don’t even know how you could. You did your part—now I can do mine.”

The Goron looked relieved, but then ashamed immediately afterwards. “I wish I could be brave like you, Link.”

Again, with that. Link smiled slightly, shaking his head. “Yunobo, I just watched you hold back a mountain’s worth of lava. That took a great deal of courage.”

“I mean, I would have been okay. I wasn’t in any real danger,” Yunobo said plaintively. “But I knew that if I didn’t do that, then you probably would have died.”

Link knew that Goron skin was tough enough to withstand touching the molten rock, but he somehow doubted Yunobo could have survived being engulfed by it. He didn’t contradict him, though. “You still risked your life to save mine. I think you’re a lot more like Daruk than you think.”

Yunobo looked down towards his feet, seemingly unsure of what to say. That suited Link fine. He didn’t think he liked long good-byes, anyway.

“Wish me luck,” he said, freeing his paraglider from its leather carrying case and unfolding it. Before Yunobo could say anything else, he ran forward and leaped off of the lip of Death Mountain, sailing down into its depths.

The heat rising from the volcano was intense. The very air felt too hot to the touch, leaving his eyes stinging and his lungs burning with each breath. He could only imagine what it would be like if he had not downed another fireproof elixir right before reaching the peak. He had another jar in his waist pack.

He squinted his eyes against the bright yellow and orange glow of the magma that pooled below him. There were no dark spots here—no cooled sections of hardened rock being swept along by the lava. This was all liquid heat. If he misjudged his descent, then Link would surely die a very painful death. No Shrine of Resurrection could ever hope to bring him back from that.

The heat rising seemed to buoy him, slowing his descent, which gave him plenty of time to think on that fate. As he circled the interior wall of Death Mountain, he could see fissures in the rock wall where magma oozed out, contributing to the overall pool beneath him. He had to be careful not to approach too close to those magma falls, lest he or his paraglider get splashed. That would be an unfortunate way to end his adventure.

So it was that Link felt a great deal of relief when his feet finally touched down on Rudania’s flat upper surface, near the base of its tail. All around him, the orange glow of the magma cast dark shadows over much of the platform he stood on, leaving things silhouetted strangely in the light. Nothing moved. No one spoke. The only sound was that of the magma on all sides, bubbling lazily.

He took a slow step forward after folding and putting away his paraglider, eyes darting around to look for anything out of place. The ground beneath him suddenly fell away and he stumbled forward, his foot coming down onto a metal flooring of some kind, inset in the floor about a foot lower. He looked down, finding that the floor he now stood on looking like it was made of sheets of metal overlaid on top of each other.

As he looked up and paid more attention to the ground, he noticed that, especially further out from the center of Rudania’s back, there were several other sections of metal inset in the floor, including four circular sections, one at each of the four corners, where the shoulders might have been on a real lizard.

He stepped back up onto the stone flooring, which he was beginning to be able to see better as his eyes adjusted to the lighting. In the center of the structure was one of the strange teardrop-shaped devices that was in the central room of Ruta. The room where he had fought the creature. He moved closer to the device, reaching a hesitant hand out to touch its surface. It was cool to the touch, regardless of the heat of the volcano.

As he looked up at it, he was struck by a sudden overwhelming familiarity by this place. He had been here before. He had walked this very deck, touching this very device. He’d witnessed Daruk looking at it in dismay, trying his best to understand why the ancient construction wouldn’t respond to his commands in the same way that the other Divine Beasts had responded to their respective Champions. And Link could remember his own role in helping Daruk overcome that.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 “I’m tellin’ ya, little guy, I just can’t get the hang of this thing!” Daruk said, reaching out and placing a hand against the control unit. There were no visible controls on it, of course—that was just what was used to establish the mental link between the Divine Beast and its pilots. Or so Princess Zelda claimed. “Every time I try to make it do… something, it just sits there. Like a pile of rocks. Only at least I can eat a pile of rocks.”

Link watched Daruk, smiling. Not everyone got to see the Goron’s sulky side. Still, though, Daruk was the last of the Champions who was still struggling to control his Divine Beast. Link had been watching Princess Zelda try for days to help him gain some measure of control over it, but she had as much difficulty as Daruk was. Still, she was patient with the Goron Champion.

It would be nice if she were as patient with him.

Announcing that she would be taking a day to relax and enjoy the hot springs—and making it abundantly clear that Link was not to follow—he decided to see if he could help his old friend. He’d heard Mipha talk about her own experiences in controlling her Divine Beast, not to mention the Princess’s endless prattle about why she thought Daruk was having so many problems—thinking out loud while writing in her journal, not while talking to Link—so he thought that he had a decent handle on the situation.

So, he’d asked Daruk to meet him at Rudania, which sat at the base of Death Mountain when not in use. Not too far from where they first met, actually, now that he reflected on it. It was a nice day with blue skies overhead, and the temperature was cooler than the earlier days they had been there.

“When I’m having trouble figuring out a new sword technique or getting used to a new bow, I like to lock myself away and just practice it until I master it.” He turned back to look at Daruk. “Sometimes it takes an hour and sometimes it takes all day. I figure that you might just need to do the same thing.”

“I dunno. The princess seems to think that I need to… what did she call it?”

“‘Achieve perfect mental attunement with your Divine Beast’,” Link supplied in what he thought was a decent approximation of her accent.

“Right. I need to do that with Rudania.” Daruk frowned, looking at the control unit. “Just wish I could make diamonds or quartz of what that meant.”

Link resisted the urge to snort. He was here for Daruk’s benefit—not to start venting about his difficulties since being assigned as the Princess’s personal knight and bodyguard. “Well, what do you like doing on your free time?”

“Besides eating?”

Link smiled. Always a kindred pair, they were. “Besides eating.”

“Well…” Daruk rubbed at his beard. “I like to go up to the peak of Death Mountain. Look down and see Goron City way below me.” He paused. “And gather some prime rock roast to eat.”

Daruk had tried to force Link to try that prime rock roast before. Best to be careful on how to proceed. “Rudania was made to walk around on Death Mountain, or so the Sheikah say. Seems reasonable to think that it likes to do that too. So… just take it up there.”

“I don’t know if it’s that simple, little guy.”

“Sure, it is.” Link laid his pack on the ground, along with the Master Sword, and lay down with his head resting on it. “It is if you tell yourself that you can’t leave the Divine Beast until you figure it out.” He considered. “And think about how much easier it’ll be to climb Death Mountain on this thing.” He draped an arm over his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the day, thinking that now was as good a time as any to catch a nap.

It took Daruk some time. Even while dozing, Link could hear the large Goron stomping around the deck, muttering to himself and occasionally punching something. Little by little, though, Rudania began to respond to his urges. It was just the front legs at first. Then the back. Then its head. And then various other little functions like the vents used to control airflow inside.

Link awoke to a sudden lurch. The flat ground underneath him had become an uncomfortably steep slope, giving him the sudden feeling of vertigo. He looked around and saw that Daruk was further forward on the deck, holding onto a section of Rudania while looking ahead. The Divine Beast was walking forward, climbing over a section of rock, moving in the direction of Death Mountain.

Scrambling up to his feet, Link picked up his bag, nestling it in against the control unit to prevent it from accidentally rolling off, and shouldering his sword. He carefully made his way over the rocking deck, finally making it to Daruk and grabbing hold of the structure that he was holding onto.

“Oh, sorry, little guy! Guess I should have warned you that we’re going for a ride.” Daruk grinned down at Link, clearly pleased with himself.

Link returned his smile. “I see you figured it out.”

“Yeah! I think I’m finally getting the hang of this Divine Beast! Guess I just needed some more time to chip at the bedrock.” Daruk laughed as Rudania crested the ridge and lifted its head, roaring with a thunderous sound that echoed off the canyons and crevices around them. A nearby flock of hotfeather pigeons took flight.

He felt Rudania level out beneath him. Daruk stretched his arms as though he had been working them hard. How many things had he punched before getting the Divine Beast under control?

“I tell you what—sure is a blast piloting a toy like this around. Now that I’ve got it figured out, there’s going to be no stopping me. You let those other Champions know: they better eat their gravel if they want to keep up with Daruk.”

“I’m sure Revali will appreciate hearing that,” Link said, dryly.

Daruk chuckled, patting Link’s shoulder, and walked past him, looking around at the view of mountains and rocky outcroppings that surrounded them. Death Mountain smoked overhead, the perpetual thin streams of lava that flowed down its sides glowing warmly.

“Speaking of people with their heads in the clouds, can you believe this view?” The Goron waved his arm. “Just look at all those delectable rocks sprinkled on those mountains. Mighty tasty.”

“Like hard candy.”

Daruk looked down at him, grinning. “Exactly! Knew you’d see things my way eventually.”

Link patted Daruk’s arm. He’d pay for that—Daruk would almost certainly try to convince him to try a rock again. They fell into a comfortable silence for a time before Daruk spoke up again.

“I may not know a whole lot about this Calamity Ganon thing, but mark my words—I’ll protect this land of ours to the death. Right, Little Guy?” Daruk slapped him in the back hard enough to nearly knock him to his knees. He coughed, holding his back and glaring up at Daruk, who seemed completely oblivious.

“So how are things going with you and the princess after being appointed her knight? It’s a big deal—protecting the king’s daughter. No pressure!”

Link stood back up, wincing slightly, and glad for the chance to take his time in responding. Finally, he said, “Nothing has changed except for that now she has to suffer in my presence all the time, instead of just occasionally.”

Daruk frowned. “It can’t be all bad. Have you tried talking to her about it?”

He didn’t reply. In truth, it wasn’t all bad, but it could be difficult to pick out good moments. She didn’t like him, and she made that perfectly clear. Repeatedly.

It was in the tone of her voice when she spoke to him—the disdain and irritation. The way she would often call him “hero”. But then there were times that she seemed to forget who he was. Perhaps she just forgot he was there altogether. In those times, she changed. She brightened. She talked excitedly about Guardians and Divine Beasts. Or perhaps she found a particular animal, insect, or plant that caught her eye. In those moments, she seemed far more approachable. But then she would look at Link, her smile would fade, and any hope of speaking to her would die on his lips.

“Ahh,” Daruk said, nodding. He had likely noticed the coolness with which Princess Zelda regarded him since arriving. “The princess is a strong personality—so strong that, sometimes, she can’t see the range for the peaks. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”

Link had no idea what he even meant by that. Goron idioms could be so… difficult to crack. He opened his mouth to say so—and to tell Daruk that he was confident that the princess had no interest in hearing what he had to say or think—when everything began to shake around them.

He stumbled, thinking that Rudania had begun to move on its own, but soon realized that it wasn’t the Divine Beast at all. The entire mountain range was trembling with an earthquake that grew increasingly violent. Barely keeping on his feet, he reached out, grabbing Daruk for support. The Goron was solid as always, even as the ground beneath them bucked.

Suddenly, Daruk shoved Link behind him and threw his arms to the front. His glowing shield—orange and multi-faceted—appeared to surround the both of them, and a split second later, a massive boulder cracked against it, shattering into smaller pieces that fell to either side of them in a cloud of dust.

Daruk left the shield up for another few seconds as the earthquake subsided, scanning the mountain range for any other threats. Finally, he turned back to Link, the shield fading into nothing. He held a hand out, pulling Link to his feet, and then looked back out towards Death Mountain.

“That was a little strange. Death Mountain has been quiet for decades. But if it’s shivering enough now to—” He glanced at Link, who was brushing himself off. Link saw his eyes briefly flick up to see the leather-wrapped hilt of the Master Sword on his back. “You know what? Never mind. Why don’t we get back—I’m sure the princess is going to want to hear that I’ve got this thing figured out.”

Link felt a shiver run down his back that had nothing to do with an earthquake. The unspoken fear. The signs. Death Mountain growing active. Monsters appearing in higher numbers and attacking towns. Rumors of a secret Sheikah sect growing in power. Prophecies. The Master Sword drawn. It all pointed towards the Calamity.

As Rudania began to turn, its powerful legs bending and stretching to propel it back down the mountain towards its resting place on top of Gortram Mountain, Link couldn’t help but to wonder how much time they had left. Would it be enough? Would he be ready?

Would any of them?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link stumbled back from the control device, clenching his trembling left hand into a tight fist. His eyes darted around, trying to banish the images from his mind. Daruk, smiling at him. Daruk, laughing. Daruk, confident in their coming victory. It was agonizing to think of what became of his friend in the end.

He looked back to the control device, glowing with a soft orange light that was barely visible in the glow of the volcano. Where was Daruk’s spirit? For that matter, where was the Malice? Where was the creature that he knew controlled this Divine Beast? It was too quiet. Mipha had greeted Link at the entrance, and the creature had been waiting for them by the control unit. So where were they?

“Daruk?” Link said, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Daruk, are you here?” He received no response. He began to walk around the upper desk, feeling increasingly uneasy. The back of his neck prickled with the feeling of being watched, yet nothing moved around them.

He found out a few moments later why he hadn’t seen any of the purple Malice anywhere. As he neared the opposite end of the upper neck, near the head, he passed by another section of inset metal sheets and found that several of the sheets had been damaged, bent inward by the force of something striking it. Like a cannonball.

Inside, Rudania was dark, but enough light filtered in to reveal a mass of Malice that writhed on the interior walls and hung from the ceiling, dripping in large, slow globules. As Link looked down into it, that same unnatural, oily air that he remembered from Ruta’s interior seemed to float up from within, making his stomach turn. He pulled back, reaching down and pulling his sword from his waist, activating the blue blade.

The light from the sword brought him some measure of comfort, throwing back some of the shadows cast by the magma. He looked around warily, eyes open for any danger. But none came. Why? Where was the creature that he knew inhabited this place? Where was Daruk? Could it be that Mipha had been unique in her spirit’s preservation?

“Come out and face me,” Link said, voice low, as he stared into the dark mass visible through the broken section of floor. It seemed to respond to his voice, quavering. He held his glowing sword low, casting some of its light down into the hole. “Come out!” 

There was a definite reaction this time. The Malice rippled and shifted, moving away from the light of the sword. An interesting reaction, to be sure, but one that Link didn’t have time to focus on. No, because at that moment, he finally heard the voice he had been hoping to hear.

“Little Guy?”

Link whirled, eyes searching, and he found the faint form of Daruk standing behind him. It was more difficult to make him out than it had been to see Mipha, though Link wasn’t sure if that was because of the light of the volcano or something else. Daruk smiled broadly.

“It’s great to see you, brother. Never stopped believing in you-- I always knew that you’d be back.” Daruk stepped forward, reaching a large hand out to place on Link’s shoulder, but it only passed through, leaving the place where he’d touched feeling cold. Daruk’s face fell. “For a moment, it almost felt like… But no matter. How have you been? What’s been going on out there?”

Link looked up at Daruk’s wide face, smiling weakly. “It’s… kind of a long story. I fell in battle, and the princess put me in a Sheikah Shrine to restore me. It healed me, but it took all of my memories. I was in there for one hundred years, Daruk. And the princess has held Ganon back during that time.”

“It’s been… one hundred years?” Daruk said, his tone quiet. He looked out in the direction of Goron City. “I knew it had been a while, but that long…” His shoulders slumped. “Huh. Darbus will be long gone by now.”

“Daruk, you—”

They were both interrupted by a new sound. This one came from above. A strange sound. It sounded like…

Yelling?

Something suddenly slammed into Rudania, causing the entire Divine Beast to rock with the impact. Whatever it had been hit not far from where Link and Daruk stood, surrounded by a plume of smoke and dust. As the dust cleared, however, he could see a familiar silhouette uncurling and standing.

“Yunobo?”

The young Goron stepped forward out of the dust, spotting Link and smiling anxiously. “Am I too late to help?”

Rudania roared and, all around them, the sheets of metal that made up the inset flooring slid back, revealing openings that led down into the depths of the Divine Beast. Malice began to bubble up out of those openings—a dark purple mass that slowly rose, spreading out over the upper deck.

The ghostly image of Daruk, who had been staring at Yunobo in confusion, whirled to face Link, expression grim. “It’s here.”

Link grimaced, thinking that he wished Yunobo had gone back to Goron City. He appreciated the Goron’s newfound bravery, really, but now he had to not only worry about his own life, but Yunobo’s as well. Link reached down, patting the arrows at his waist. He wouldn’t use them yet. Instead, he removed some of his excess equipment—the paraglider and his satchel—and strapped his shield to his arm.

He looked around as the Malice began to congregate near the central device. It seemed to congeal and grow upon itself, a mound rising from the center of the mass. The blight began to take shape, growing taller and wider.

It was large—larger than the one in Ruta. Like the other, this one had no legs, its body beginning at its waist, revealing a muscular form. One of its arms were long and slender, in a long-fingered hand. The other arm was thick and covered in Sheikah technology, ending in a massive glowing sword that was not so unlike his own, except for its size. Its face, like the one in Ruta, was covered by a flat mask that contained ancient Sheikah designs, with a blue eye in its center and two protrusions rising from its top that looked like a pair of horns. Red hair sprouted from the back of its head, spreading in all directions.

It thrust its head back and shrieked with an ear-piercing roar. Behind him, Link heard Yunobo whimper, stumbling back in shock. Link only grimaced, able to hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He was sweating, but the moisture seemed to evaporate almost as immediately as it appeared. It was so damn hot.

His eyes found the creature’s sword. It was shaped more like a giant cleaver than a sword—short and thick, rather than long and slender. One clean sweep of that, and it was over for him. He wasn’t even sure his shield could take it. Sheikah weaponry seemed able to cut through metal and stone. The good wood of his shield would likely put up little resistance to it. The creature’s outstretched hand, though—those fingers ended in long claws. And Link wasn’t sure what other abilities this thing might have.

“Careful, Link,” Daruk said, his voice soft cast low for Link’s ears only. “That thing is tough. I fought it hard, but my Boulder Breaker couldn’t even crack its shell.” He reached out and placed a hand on Link’s shoulder. This time, Link could just feel the touch—faint, but solid nonetheless. Link looked back at his friend and gave him a grim smile before stepping forward to face the beast.

The creature looked down at him, turning its head slightly to the side. It seemed to be considering him, confused at the man daring to challenge it. Link brought his ancient sword up to the ready, looking up at the creature.

The first attack came quickly, but Link expected it. As the giant’s sword swung down in a vertical arc, he leaped to the side, avoiding the shining energy blade as it crashed down into the stonework of the Divine Beast’s deck, sinking several inches into it.

His shield would most definitely not be any use against that thing. Good to know.

The creature wrenched its sword free and advanced on Link,  and Link rolled forward, underneath its next attack, coming up just underneath its floating form on his knees, and stabbed his sword directly up into the creature’s underside.

“Yeah, right in the crag!” Daruk pumped his arm into the air. “Don’t let up!”

The creature screeched in pain or fury, moving quickly away from him. It spun, sweeping its sword out, but Link dove onto his belly, feeling it pass just overhead, and then scrambled back up on his feet, running forward with a leap, stabbing his sword up into the place its gut would have been on a normal person. His sword plunged deep into the Malice that formed its body. Where the blue blade of his sword touched, the Malice quivered and smoked, burned by the energy.

He yanked the sword out and aimed a swing up towards the thing’s mask, hoping to end the fight as quickly as it started. Before the attack could land, however, the creature’s long arm grabbed him by the scruff of his tunic, throwing him back. He crashed to the ground, sliding several feet before coming to rest with his head over the edge of one of the openings leading into the belly of the Divine Beast.

Slightly dazed, Link lifted his head to look at the creature, only to see its free hand rise into the air. A ball of yellow fire appeared above its palm, and it flung the fireball at right at him. He cursed and rolled out of the way, but the heat of the blast still washed over him, leaving his exposed skin feeling tender. He jumped back to his feet.

He ran forward again, knowing that the best place he could be was within the creature’s guard. As he ran, the creature lobbed another fireball at him, which he blocked with his shield. The shield immediately burst into flame.

Yelling in surprise, Link stopped his advance, fumbling with the strap on the burning shield. He got it off before it could be completely consumed with flames—and him with it—and dropped it to the ground, kicking it away.

He saw the cleaver coming for him almost too late. The creature swung low, and Link leaped into a backflip, clearing the blade, but landing again on the edge of the pit. Link momentarily pinwheeled his arms, teetering on the edge, and then he fell back.

With a sudden sound of grinding metal, the metal sheets that previously covered the opening slid shut beneath Link, and he landed with a grunt and a clang.

He could hear Daruk let out a bellow of triumph, and when Link rolled to his feet, he saw the creature turn on Daruk’s spirit, screeching in fury. It lobbed a fireball at Daruk, which passed through him harmlessly. “Not going to work on me, you—”

Link stopped listening to whatever Goron vulgarity that Daruk called it. Instead, he sprinted towards it and swung his sword up and through the outstretched arm of the creature at the elbow. His blade cut through it in a burst of acrid smoke, and the creature’s forearm and hand both fell to the deck, hitting with a sickening wet sound.

Angered and pained, the creature attempted to catch him with its sword, but Link hadn’t stopped moving, getting around to its back, where he aimed a deep cut.

It screamed, and Rudania rumbled underneath Link’s feet. The creature pulled away, rising into the air above him, and looking down at him with apparent hatred, its eye pulsing.

Link watched, frustrated, as its left arm began to regrow from its smoking stump. It raised its outstretched hand, creating another fireball, but this one, it did not throw towards Link. Instead, it turned the fireball, pressing it to its blue sword.

“Oh no…” Link heard Yunobo moan from somewhere beside him. He could relate to the sentiment.

The creature’s cleaver-like sword was suddenly engulfed in fire, turning its blade a dangerous orange. It spread its arms wide, releasing an ear-piercing sound, and suddenly it was surrounded by a mostly-transparent ball of orange light that caused the air around it to ripple.

“That’s my move!” Daruk yelled at the same time as Yunobo cried, “Hey, that looks just like—!”

Link deactivated his sword, thrusting it down into his belt, and removed his bow from his back. Fumbling with the quiver at his hip, he pulled out one of the Ancient arrows and taking aim at the creature’s blue eye. As he drew, the mechanism at the end of the arrow activated, and a small arrowhead appeared, shining with the same light as his sword.

Praying that it would work, Link released the arrow, watching it sail through the air, leaving behind a blue afterimage in its wake. It struck the barrier with a brief flash of white-blue light and then dissipated. He swore.

The creature merely looked down at Link and raised its hand, palm up.

It began as a light wind—a breeze lightly pulling at a few loose strands of Link’s hair. But the breeze quickly increased in strength. Just above the creature’s outstretched hand, a small ball of white-hot flame appeared. The wind became a gale, pulling towards that ball of light, and the fire grew. And grew. The wind howled, and he began to see chunks of molten rock—cooled to mottled black and red by the gale—flying towards the fireball, absorbed into it.

“Link, run!” Daruk’s voice in his head. “Find cover!”

Link whirled, eyes darting about, falling on Yunobo. He was standing in the open, transfixed. His Goron emblem flapped on his chest, drawn towards the creature, but held in place by the Champion’s garment he wore.

“Yunobo, get out of here!” Link cried as he began running for the Goron. Yunobo didn’t respond, staring up at the bright fireball with wide eyes. Link could hear Daruk yelling at him, but the pounding of his own heart drowned out the voice. “Yunobo!”

The gale stopped.

Oh no.

Link glanced to the right just in time to see the creature lob the fireball—easily as large as any of the boulders that had nearly fallen on him earlier—directly towards him. It moved slower than the previous attacks, yet it flew through the air with a strange grace to it, moving with a confident air that suggested that it would succeed.

Suddenly, Daruk appeared in front of the fireball, his arms outstretched, yelling in defiance. Link had a flash of memory—Daruk, standing before him, protecting him from a boulder. But then Daruk was consumed by the fireball, which continued towards Link, arcing slightly to follow him.

Yunobo finally seemed to snap out of his daze, and he looked at Link, who ran as fast as he could towards him. He glanced back at the fireball. At Link. Then he reached out, grabbing Link’s arm, and pulled him against his chest, wrapping the Hylian in his arms and ducking his head low.

The fireball struck and exploded with the force of Death Mountain’s eruption. Fire and molten rock consumed everything in its white-hot fury. The explosion roared in Link’s ears, and he waited for the end. An end which never came.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, aware that Yunobo was still crushing him to his chest. The Goron was trembling, his head low, eyes closed tightly. Link turned his head, able to see the aftermath of the explosion. The ground around them was blackened and scorched, and flaming embers and ash drifted down around them. A shimmering barrier surrounded them on all sides, encasing them in its protective embrace. They were unharmed.

He patted Yunobo’s arms, and the Goron slowly released his grip, looking up in wonder. Link pulled away, though did not attempt to leave the barrier. Outside, the creature watched them. Though it had no expression, Link thought that it posture seemed far more menacing and angry now.

Link glanced back towards Yunobo. “I had no idea you could do that.”

Yunobo looked a little sheepish as he looked back down at Link. “It’s just this ability that I’ve always had. I’ve never met anyone else who’s ever been able to do it.”

“I have.”

Outside of the barrier, Daruk’s ghostly form had reappeared, facing them. He wasn’t looking at Link, though. His eyes were on Yunobo, looking stunned.

The creature advanced on them, wielding its flaming sword above its head. Yunobo whimpered softly as it did so, but Link stood up straighter, noticing that the creature’s own barrier had disappeared. It was vulnerable.

“Can this take another hit?” he asked, formulating a plan in his head.

“I-I think so. It takes a lot to break it.”

“This is how you’ve been surviving everything, isn’t it? When you were caught in the rockslide and when you held back the lava.”

“And when I jumped on here.”

“Yunobo, no one should ever suggest to you that you need to be more like Daruk… You’re more like Daruk than anyone I’ve ever met.” Link smiled at Yunobo’s look of surprise. “Now, hold the barrier until I tell you to drop it.”

Yunobo nodded, eyes turning back up towards the creature looming over them. It brought its flaming sword down, which struck the barrier with the sound not unlike a hammer striking a gong. There was an explosion of fire in all directions, and though the barrier shimmered more brightly under the impact, it held.

Link pulled another arrow from his quiver, nocking it on his bowstring. He eased around behind Yunobo’s back, looking up towards the angry blue eye overhead. The creature swung its sword again, smashing against the barrier with enough force to rock the ground underneath them.

“After the next hit, wait for the count of two, and then drop it and run. Understood?” Link spoke in soft tones. He wasn’t sure if that creature could understand his words, but he didn’t want it to hear, just in case. Yunobo nodded, glancing back over his shoulder at Link. The space in the barrier was tight—the sphere was just tall enough to accommodate Yunobo’s height and was equally as wide.

The creature screeched again, and its eyes flashed with red light. A white beam of energy shot out of the eye, crashing against the barrier with another explosion. Link saw white cracks forming in the shimmering surface.

One, two. “Now!”

Yunobo dropped the barrier and immediately curled into a ball, rolling forward and to the right, quickly ending up behind the creature. The creature, however, had Link in its sight. Its eye turned red once more. Link took a breath, feeling everything slow around him as he focused, aiming down the arrow shaft.

He released.

The ancient arrow flew true, striking the creature dead center of its eye. It sunk deep into the eye, and for a moment, all was still. And then a shaft of brilliant blue-white light exploded out the back of the creature’s head.

“Yes!” Daruk cried. Behind him, Yunobo pumped his fists into the air.

Its sword deactivated as the creature began to thrash, throwing its head back and releasing an ear-piercing shriek. It began to shake violently, backing away from Link as it reached up, clawing at its face with its hand made of Malice, which had already begun to grow shriveled and brittle. Jets of acrid smoke and mist began to burst out from places all over its body. The creature curled around itself as more and more of the mist began to erupt from its body until, finally, it exploded in a cloud of the blackish mist. For a moment, it hung there in the air, swirling slowly, but then broke apart, rising into the air and fading from view. The scourge of Divine Beast Vah Rudania was gone.

Link barely had a moment to reflect on the victory before he was swept up by massive arms. He released a strangled cry of shock as Yunobo lifted him from the ground, causing him to drop his bow to the ground with a clatter.

“You did it!” Yunobo cried, laughing delightedly. Link merely grunted in reply, finding it difficult to breathe. “Oh! Sorry.” He eased Link back down to the ground.

Link backed away a step, brushing his clothes off, before smiling up at Yunobo. “We did it!”

“Hey, Little Guy,” Daruk said, moving closer. His eyes were still on Yunobo. “Is this my…”

Yunobo looked at Daruk and seemed to truly see him for the first time, eyes widening. “You’re my grandfather!”

For a time, Daruk was speechless, looking at Yunobo with an expression of such emotion that would have seemed almost out of place on such a large and imposing being to someone who didn’t know him well. Link stepped away, allowing the two Gorons time to speak to each other without his eavesdropping.

Instead, he picked up his bow, slinging it over his back, and made his way over to where he’d dropped the rest of his supplies. They had, gratefully, avoided damage from the battle, though had clearly gotten pulled towards the creature when it began to charge its fireball. Once he had strapped back on the gear, he pulled a waterskin out, emptying it in several gulps.

It was several more minutes before Link heard, “Hey, Little Guy! What are you doing all the way over there?” He turned, smiling back at Daruk and Yunobo, and made his way back over. “We can’t have a proper family reunion without my brother here.” Daruk grinned down at Link.

“You know, I may not remember all the finer points of Goron culture, but I’m pretty sure all Gorons refer to each other as brother.”

“Well, sure, but there’s a difference between a brother and a brother, y’know?” Daruk’s grin only grew wider. His form seemed stronger now that the Blight had been dealt with. “Link, I’m never going to be able to repay you for all this. Freeing the Divine Beast and me, bringing my grandson to meet me—”

“He sort of brought himself,” Link interjected, smiling at Yunobo’s sudden sheepish grin. “But say nothing of it, Daruk. I only wish I could have done so sooner.”

“Doesn’t sound like you had much of a choice either. I’m proud of you. I always knew you were tough for a Hylian—strong enough to give most Gorons a run for their rocks—but now I know you’ve got what it takes to defeat Calamity Ganon once and for all.”

Link exhaled slowly, his body beginning to feel tired again, now that the adrenaline rush was fading. “I’ve got a long road ahead of me.”

“Still, this is your second Divine Beast freed, right? I think that thing knew when you crushed the other one. It got really agitated—started thrashing around more than before.”

“Which means the other two are probably going to know I’m coming.” Link didn’t like that. He preferred to think that he was getting the drop on these creatures. If they prepared for his arrival, then they would be that much deadlier.

“You’ve got this! Those things won’t stand a chance when you roll up to them. And once you’ve freed them, our century-old Ganon beat-down plan can finally go into effect!”

It was hard, thinking of what still lay before him, but still. The knowledge that he had freed Daruk and Mipha and saved their respective peoples gave Link an immense sense of satisfaction.

“I’m sorry you’ve got to walk this path alone, brother.”

 “And I had someone try to assassinate me a few days ago,” Link said, smile fading.

“Just like old times, then!” Daruk said, laughing. He placed an ethereal hand on Link’s shoulder, which Link was able to feel more strongly than before. “Come on, let’s get you Yunobo down below and strapped in. It’s too hot in here for you two. I’ll get us out this volcano.”

The three of them made their way down into the depths of Rudania, which was now clean of the Malice that had inhabited it previously. Without that and with the metal vents open, the inside was much brighter than it had been before, letting Link see the complex mechanisms that controlled the Divine Beast.

Daruk led them to a place where a number of seats with a number of restraints like leather belts had been placed. Daruk helped instruct them in how to properly strap themselves in, since Yunobo had never been there and Link had no memories of these, and then he turned around, looking around with wonder at the interior of Rudania.

“It’s been so long since it’s been clear of that foul stuff,” he said, reaching up and rubbing his beard. “I think it’s happy to be free, too. Say, Link, do you remember when you helped me learn how to control this thing?”

Link smiled. He did.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Now, what are those guys doing?” Daruk looked out towards the Bridge of Eldin, which separated Goron City from the base of Death Mountain. A large group of Gorons had gathered there with Bludo at their center.

He had piloted them down Death Mountain, easily navigating over the mountainous terrain. As the ground began to level out again, Link and Yunobo had gone back above deck, watching as the distant Goron City got closer. The view from the side of Death Mountain was spectacular—easily the highest view around, letting them see around for miles. Link could even faintly see the castle, little more than a speck from this distance.

He noticed that the heat surrounding the volcano had become less oppressive in the time it took them to descend. While it was still quite hot, even with the fireproof elixirs, he still detected a noticeable shift in just how hot it was. There were fewer streams of magma running down the side of Death Mountain as well, and many of the existing streams seemed to have shrunk in size.

The volcano was becoming dormant again, now that Rudania no longer stoked its fire. Yunobo even thought that they would be able to start mining again in the northern mine within the next couple of days. There would still be pockets of magma, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Oftentimes, the magma flows from Death Mountain would reveal fresh veins of ore and gemstones. The Goron miners would be busy—exactly how they liked it.

A sharp crack resounded in the air, and a moment later, something solid struck the side of Rudania, sending a tremble through it.

“Hey!” Daruk yelled, scowling. “Those guys are shooting at us! What do they think they’re doing? Rudania already took enough of a beating!”

“They must think that Rudania is coming down to attack them! The Boss must have had some cannons from the mine brought over to drive it back!” Yunobo hurried forward to the edge of the upper deck. A moment later, he ducked as a cannonball sailed overhead, missing him.

“Hey!” he cried, waving his arms in the air. “Stop! It’s okay!” The cannon fire stopped, and Yunobo’s shoulders slumped in relief. He turned back to Daruk and Link, grinning sheepishly. “I guess they didn’t realize that we’d won.”

“Guess not,” Link said, feeling buoyed by that simple statement.

They’d won. Another Divine Beast had been freed. Another friend avenged. One step closer to ending this once and for all. It was a humbling thought. His journey had already taken him halfway across a nation to meet dozens of people and save two entire civilizations. But each time he was left feeling as though victory had been barely snatched from the jaws of defeat. Luck and the fortunate assistance of friends. What would happen when he didn’t have that to fall back on?

Quite suddenly, Link wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back to Goron City. There would be celebrations and demands for stories. He would be celebrated as a hero, undoubtedly named an official brother of the Goron people—again—and they would want to know how he would progress in his journey. Did he truly want to face that now?

He wasn’t sure if the sudden downturn in his mood showed on his face or not, but he thought that Daruk was gazing at him with a strange expression. Link carefully kept his face neutral, forcing a smile on his lips.

When the Divine Beast halted at the other side of the bridge, Daruk walked with them back down to the entrance to Rudania but held back, rather than stepping completely into view. As Yunobo passed, hurrying off to greet Bludo, who was staring up at them with an open mouth, Daruk motioned for Link to stay.

“You doing all right, Little Guy?”

Link looked up at him and hesitated. Finally, he nodded, saying nothing. Daruk frowned, fixing him with a stare that Link thought he recognized from before. Link sighed. “Just thinking about what comes next. All that I have left to do.”

Daruk hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you know how we Gorons crack the toughest rocks?”

“One swing at a time?”

“Well—yeah,” Daruk said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling. “But sometimes we also have to keep reminding ourselves of the gems and ore that we’re looking for. Ya can’t lose sight of your goal. Otherwise sometimes it just feels like you’re swinging a hammer at rock.”

What was his goal?  He wanted to defeat Ganon, of course. Eliminate the rot that had infested Hyrule and give the people a chance to rebuild. Yet…

He could feel a warmth pressed against his arm that had nothing to do with the crackling fire before them. A comfortable warmth. One that he could get used to feeling. But he shouldn’t. He glanced to the side and caught a glimpse of her green eyes before she looked away, focusing again on the crackling fire.

Princess Zelda’s face seemed to float before his mind’s eye. He felt his face grow flush. Was the goal just defeating Ganon?

“Little Guy?”

Link pushed the thoughts aside, refocusing again on Daruk. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t do me any good to dwell on all that I have left to do.”

“That’s the spirit!” He went to slap Link on the back, but his hand passed right through Link’s back and out the front. Link shuddered at the frigid sensation, rubbing his chest. Daruk looked at his hand with a sheepish grin. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Link shook his head, dropping his hand and looking out at the gathered Gorons waiting across the bridge. Yunobo had reached them and was speaking animatedly to Bludo, gesturing with his hands. Daruk followed Link’s gaze.

“Thanks for bringing the kid along. When you told me how long it had been, all I could think of was…” Daruk shook his head. “Well, it’s just good to know that everything turned out all right in the end. My grandson.”

“He’s got a lot of you in him,” Link said, smiling up at Daruk.

“Will you keep an eye on him for me, brother?”

“I will, though I don’t think he’ll need it so much anymore.”

Outside, Yunobo smashed a fist against his palm and then pointed up towards Rudania’s head, where the single fin still remained open and damaged. The other Gorons had gathered around him in a tight semi-circle, listening with awed expressions.

Link feasted with the Gorons that night, and he soon found out that when Gorons celebrated, they did so with a refreshing lack of decorum. The Gorons brought out drums of all shapes and sizes, playing them well into the night, while many other Gorons chose to dance to the rhythms. While the Gorons themselves ate only an assortment of rocks and ore, they had managed to find Link a number of meats, fruits, and vegetables somewhere. Link took care of cooking them, though. He had few distinct memories of Goron cooking, but those that he had weren’t pleasant.

Bludo had a large cask of Goron ale brought out, which Link finally agreed to sample after a great deal of encouragement by Yunobo. It tasted like muddy water with hints of sulfur and salt, and it was strong enough to send him into a coughing fit. When the communal bowl of ale circled back around the table, he passed on a second sampling.

Link and Yunobo both were given seats of honor right next to Bludo, who proclaimed Yunobo a hero and Link a true brother to the Goron people, which only really seemed to set off another round of drumming, dancing, and drinking. Somewhere along the way, Link found himself in front of one of the drums, playing along clumsily. No one cared if he was off-beat, however, and soon the brothers Volcon and Tray had gotten up to show the younger Gorons how their generation danced while Bludo laughed raucously to the side, clapping his hands.

The air of celebration didn’t end with the first night either. The next day, banners were hung up throughout Goron City, and Link was given a tour of the places that he’d not yet had a chance to see. He saw the great underground city, with its impossibly tall ceiling, lava falls, and sprawling minecart transportation system that led deep into the surrounding mountains. He was shown the northern mine, which would be reopening soon now that the lava had stopped flowing into it in such a great amount. He was even shown not one, but two different Sheikah Shrines, including the one that he remembered investigating when he first met Daruk so many years before. He took the time to activate that one to make travel back to Goron City easier in the future. He was even made a new, iron shield by Rohan, the Goron blacksmith. It was heavier than Link was used to, but it would be sturdy.

A short minecart ride took them down to the southern mine, where he met up with some Gorons that he recognized from his trip up to Goron City with Boldon, as well as some he hadn’t met during his first stop there, in particular a pair of Gorons that he found himself speaking to on the evening of the second day.

“Do you ever venture outside of Death Mountain?” Link asked the Goron across from him. They sat beside a small fire that Link had made and used to cook up a meal for himself. They were joined by another Goron, this one only a child, who wore a yellow hardhat, as all of the Goron miners did while in the mines.

“Nope. I’ve been down to the trading outpost a couple times,” said the Goron, taking off his hardhat and scratching the top of his head.

“Greyson always says he wants to travel, though!” the younger Goron said excitedly.

“Pelison, don’t—”

“And you’re always complaining that you’re tired of digging tunnels all day long.”

“That’s not—”

“And that you want to help people! Brother, I think we should do it.”

Link had met Pelison first. The young Goron had been excitable and launched right into an explanation of how his older brother, Greyson, was really excited to meet Link because he wanted to, one day, help people just like Link had helped the Gorons. After speaking with Link, Pelison had gone off to fetch Greyson and tell him what had been proposed.

“What about all of our friends?” Greyson asked, replacing his hardhat.

“We can make new ones. Come on, Greyson. They need our help!”

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to leave the mountain… We can always come back after we’re finished.”

And with that, Link found the North Bolson Construction Company its Goron help. He even managed to find not one, but two Gorons that adhered to the company’s strict naming conventions.

“Where do you think you’ll go next?” Yunobo asked, as they stood together on Stolock Bridge, a metal bridge that hung above the entrance to Goron City and connected to the path that led up to Death Mountain.

“I’m going to travel south for a time,” Link finally said after a few moments of silence. He leaned against the metal railing, looking out towards the massive Monument Rock. The Gorons had done a great job capturing Daruk’s smiling face. “There are some questions that I need answered by Impa of the Sheikah, so I’ll go there first. After that, I might spend a few days in Hateno Village.”

“But you’re going to be going after the other Divine Beasts too, right?”

Link nodded slowly. “Medoh and Naboris. The Rito and Gerudo Divine Beasts.” He hadn’t quite decided which one he would travel to first, but he was beginning to lean towards the Rito.

Both were to the west, across Hyrule Field. It would be a long journey. He considered taking the southern road near the Great Plateau and heading straight into the desert, but the more he considered it, he liked the idea of cutting across the field instead. It would take him nearer the castle, which could prove dangerous, but curiosity drove him. What state was Central Hyrule in now? It seemed uninhabited, with the exception of bokoblins and moblins. But why? He found himself more and more determined to find out.

And then there were the memories. He had begun to experience memories with every new place he went. He had seen memories with Daruk and Mipha, and even a handful with Princess Zelda. He wanted more, though, and thought that traveling closer to where it had all begun might help. He could always leave with the assistance of the Sheikah Slate, if it got too dangerous.

It was a plan, at least.

“Do you think you’re going to be able to do it? Free the other Divine Beasts? Defeat the Calamity?”

Link smiled faintly at the question and looked over at Yunobo. How did he even answer that question? “Well, I’m certainly going to try.”

Yunobo looked at him, and it seemed to Link that he was deciding whether or not to say something. Finally, he spoke again. “If you ever need anything, just ask me, okay?”

“Thanks, brother.” Link reached out, placing a hand on Yunobo’s shoulder before stepping back and pulling the Sheikah Slate from his waist. He pulled up the map and found the Eldin Tower on it. He looked back up at Yunobo and smiled. “Take care of yourself. I’ll visit again soon.”

Yunobo nodded, looking excited. Link had told him what to expect, but none of the Gorons had witnessed his ability to teleport with the Sheikah Slate. While several others had wanted to be there to see him off, Link had requested only Yunobo’s presence at the end. It seemed fitting, after all they’d been through.

“Thanks for everything, Link! I’ll keep an eye on Rudania and make sure nothing else happens to it.” The Goron grinned broadly. He had gone to visit Rudania several times since they returned to Goron City. Daruk had enjoyed the visits greatly as well and had taken to calling Yunobo the new Goron Champion. Link approved whole-heartedly.

Link nodded and pressed the screen of his Sheikah Slate. He disappeared in a cloud of blue particles, reappearing moments later at the top of the Eldin Tower, far down from where he’d been at Goron City. He looked around, taking in the view from the top of the tower. It was considerably cooler down here, and a breeze blew past the tower, further cooling him. He briefly checked his gear, making sure everything was still strapped down properly—he didn’t have the luxury of using a dodongo to carry the gear back down this time—and then took out the paraglider, leaping off the south side of the tower.

The flight down took a long time, and Link covered quite a large distance in the process, sailing over the hot springs and landing just before the rock arch that marked the boundary that separated Death Mountain with the rest of Hyrule. The air continued to cool. Soon, Link felt chilly by comparison. Though it was still a fairly warm morning, his sweat-soaked clothing were cold. He changed out of his Champion’s tunic, putting on the red tunic given to him by Telma, and continued on his way down towards the trading outpost.

“Oh! There you are. We were wondering when you would be coming back.” The young woman named Breen smiled brightly at Link when he walked up to the stable. The outpost was quiet, much as it had been when he had first arrived there, containing only a small handful of inhabitants in a scattering of old buildings.

“How has Spirit been?” Link asked as he approached her in the door to the stable. She held a pitchfork, and a light sheen of sweat was visible on her forehead. It looked as though she had just finished mucking out the stable.

“Oh, he’s been fine, though Spirit is a fitting name for him! I tried taking him out for a ride yesterday to let him run, but I don’t think he was happy with me at all.”

Link smiled fondly, looking into the stable. He could see Spirit’s head sticking out from one of the stalls, fixing him with one large brown eye. “He can be a handful.”

“He’s a sweet boy when you give him apples, though.” Breen smiled broadly in towards Spirit and then looked back at Link. “Oh! I almost forgot. Some people came looking for you.”

A chill ran down Link’s spine. “Some people?”

“Oh yeah, it was a couple days ago. Two people came by, said they knew you. Asked if I knew when you would be coming back.”

“Are they still around?” The hair on Link’s arms stood, and he resisted the urge to begin looking around.

“No, they didn’t stay at the inn. Just said that they would come back in a few days and then walked back down the hill.”

“Did they say how they knew me?”

“Not at all.”

“What did they look like?”

“Well, it was a man and a woman. Didn’t give any names. The man was kind of tall, bulky type, you know? Brown hair. The woman was short, skinny. Blonde, I think.”

The description was generic enough that it could have been anyone, yet… it didn’t sound like anyone in particular that Link knew. He grimaced. It could be innocent. Maybe someone from Hateno Village? But no. Who there, besides Purah, knew that Link was going to be at Goron City? It could have been someone from Kakariko but didn’t sound like anyone he knew from there either.

It wasn’t necessarily assassins, of course. But he couldn’t take the risk. Alone, Delia had nearly killed him.

“Breen, I hate to do this, but I need you to keep Spirit here for a while longer, all right? Should only be a few days. I need to take care of some business before I take him again.”

“Oh, well, we can do that, but is everything okay?”

Link walked into the stable, reaching out and patting Spirit’s nose. The horse seemed agitated, wanting to be let out of the stable. “Just a little longer, boy. I’ll be back soon.” He turned back to Breen. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He reached into a nearby bag of oats, pulling out a handful and holding his hand out to Spirit, who ate them from his palm. “Did they know that Spirit was here?”

“I never told them, but I don’t know if anyone else did,” she said, stepping up beside him. “Are you sure everything is all right?”

Link looked at her and forced up a small smile. “It’s fine. I just need to take care of something. It’ll just be a few more days. A week at most.”

He left shortly thereafter, after gathering some more of his equipment from Spirit’s saddlebags and doing his best to avoid Breen’s questions while not sounding too suspicious. There wasn’t any avoiding it, though. The best he could hope was that, if they came back, she would just tell them the truth. Surely, if she was truthful with them, they would leave her alone. 

Before he faced any more possible assassins, however, he needed to have some questions answered. He ducked behind some of the other buildings, where no one from the streets could see him, and pulled out his Sheikah Slate, selecting Kakariko Village.

The sudden change in air threw him off greatly when he reformed on the base of the shrine. While the base of Death Mountain was still warm and arid, Kakariko was quite cooler and humid. The grass surrounding the shrine was damp, and distant clouds suggested that rains had passed through the area recently. The village smelled of wet grass and dirt, along with hints of cuccos.

He made his way down from the hill quickly, unable to shake the uneasy feeling of being watched. How many assassins were there? How had they known he was going to Death Mountain? Did they know that he had killed Delia? The white mask stuck out in his head—were they Sheikah? He trusted Impa, yet…

“Oh! M-Ma—Link! We hadn’t heard that you would be visiting today.” Paya’s voice brought Link out of his thoughts. She had a basket of damp clothes under one arm and a washboard under the other and appeared to be walking back up towards the home she shared with Impa.

Link forced out a breath, trying to relax. His nerves felt on fire. “I just arrived. Is Impa around? I need to talk with her.”

Paya frowned, looking concerned, but nodded. She led him back up to the house, past Dorian, who stood guard as always. Cado wasn’t there at the time. The main room in Impa’s residence was dimly lit by the light streaming in from outside—none of the lanterns were lit, and Impa wasn’t sitting on her pillow.

“Wait here,” Paya said, setting down her basket and washing implements, and then hurried off into a back room to find her grandmother. A minute later, both Impa and Paya emerged from the room. Paya carried a candle, which she used to go around to the lanterns in the room and light them, bathing them in warm light.

“Link,” Impa said, walking over to him. “Sit.”

He did so, sitting down on the pillow nearest her dais. Impa walked over to her own pillow and sat, sighing as she did so. When comfortable, she looked back up at Link and fixed him with a patient smile.

“How goes your journey? I am surprised to see you back here so soon. It has been, what? Two weeks?”

“Rudania is free.”

A hush fell over the room at his words. Beside him, Paya lowered the candle slowly, looking at him in surprise. Impa’s eyes widened. Link felt his face grow warm. I hate this part. The awe.

“You have freed two of the Divine Beasts.” Impa’s voice was suddenly thick with emotion. He saw tears at the corners of her eyes. “You have not yet been awake for two months, and already you have done more to fight back against the Calamity than we accomplished in one hundred years.”

He remained silent, unable to formulate a response. What she said was true enough, but something about her words bothered him. He had fought these creatures with little more than the tools at hand. He did not carry a legendary sword, nor did he fight with any special abilities, such as what the Champions had. He was an accomplished swordsman, true. But he felt certain that others could have accomplished as much had they made efforts to do so. It was a disconcerting thought.

Was he truly the only one able to stand up to Calamity Ganon?

“And to think you once asked why it must be you,” Impa said, smiling. She reached up, wiping at her eyes. “Good. Good, Link.”

Link hesitated, glancing over and spotting Paya, who was still watching him with wide eyes, hands clasped at her breast. She had set the candle down on a nearby table. He looked away and reached into his pack, pulling out the white assassin’s mask.

Paya gasped sharply, and Impa sat up straight, eyes widening. The air in the room changed immediately, growing tense. Dangerous. “Where did you get that?” Impa hissed.

“From the assassin that tried to kill me on the way to Death Mountain.” In his mind’s eye, he could see Delia’s unseeing eyes, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Dead by his hand.

“Paya, the door. Ensure no one is listening,” Impa commanded. Paya quickly obeyed, hurrying over to the front door and peeking out of it. Apparently satisfied that no one was on the deck outside, she snapped it closed again and stood by it to ensure no one entered. Impa looked back at Link. “Tell me.”

Link relayed the story, recounting how Delia had initially appeared as a woman in distress, injured and in need of help. He told her of how he had woke to find her standing over him in the mask and of the ensuing fight between them that ended in her death.

“So what is this? The mask has a Sheikah symbol on it.” Link couldn’t quite keep the accusatory tone out of his voice. Not that he thought Impa was responsible for the assassin, but she was the leader of the Sheikah, after all.

“That is not a Sheikah eye.” Impa slowly stood from her pillow, making her way down. She held her hand out, and Link handed her the mask. She took it, inspecting it quietly. “They have been more active lately, but I had hoped that they wouldn’t have found out about you so quickly. And to know where you were going…”

“Impa, who are they?”

“Yiga.”

Yiga? Telma mentioned them, didn’t she? I’ve definitely heard of them before, Link thought. Something else pulled at his thoughts, though. A memory that would not form, perhaps. Had he dealt with them in the past?

At Link’s insistent look, Impa continued. “To fully explain the Yiga, I must first explain what happened following Calamity Ganon’s defeat ten thousand years ago.” Impa pulled another pillow closer, sitting down on it directly in front of Link, still holding the mask.

“The Sheikah people, as you know, were instrumental in defeating Calamity Ganon then, with the use of the Divine Beasts and the Guardians. At the time, we were lauded as heroes and gained much influence over the governing of the kingdom. However, as is common anytime an unfamiliar culture grows stronger, the people of Hyrule began to fear the Sheikah. Our technology was powerful and foreign, and it seemed to them that if we wanted to conquer Hyrule, rather than serve it, we had all of the necessary tools to do so.

“Whether those fears were unfounded or not, I cannot say. What I can say is that the royal family soon decreed that we were to renounce our technology and to return to our ancestral home of the Necluda region. The Sheikah living near the capital and in the other cities and towns—many of which had never stepped foot in their homeland—were driven from their homes by angry neighbors and former friends.”

Link frowned. “Why didn’t the Sheikah just leave? Find a new nation that would accept them? With their knowledge and capabilities, I’m sure they could have done so.”

“Many did just that. Histories suggest that the Sheikah people in Hyrule were once much more numerous than we are now. Others renounced their Sheikah lineage, choosing to live among the Hylians in secret, marrying and having children. Not all Sheikah have the distinctive white hair and red eyes, you see, especially when they may have had mixed parentage themselves.

“Others, as you can see, chose to remain loyal to the royal family, settling again in Necluda. We built Kakariko Village and chose to live as simple folk. Our technology was buried, and much of our scientific research was destroyed.”

Impa looked down at the mask, gripping it tightly. Her face looked more lined than before. “And yet, some Sheikah chose a different path. Some chose to defy the royal family and kept some of their technology, deciding that, if the royal family would not have them, perhaps another master would. They became the Yiga, and they chose to serve Ganon.”

Link let out a long breath, eyes fixed on the mask in Impa’s hands. “They serve Ganon? Truly?”

“Yes. Though they remained dormant and hidden for many millennia, they emerged from the shadows shortly before Calamity Ganon’s rise. My people were unaware that the Yiga still existed after so long—they disappeared quickly after the split. It was assumed that they had left Hyrule, as some other Sheikah had. And perhaps they had, only to return when signs of Ganon’s return began to become apparent.

“But when they reemerged, it became quickly apparent to us that they sought to bring about his return more quickly. They began to engage in thievery and sabotage, stealing or destroying research into the Guardians and Divine Beasts. We made attempts to find and stop them, but they seemed to always know how to evade us. To this day, I do not know where the Yiga clan is headquartered.

“Eventually, they began to attempt assassinations against people they believed to be most involved in combatting Ganon’s return. Several Sheikah researchers were killed, and attempts were made on the lives of Purah, Robbie, and myself. The Champions were attacked, and of course, you and Princess Zelda were both at the highest risk. You protected her life from more than one failed Yiga assassination attempt in your time traveling together.”

Link closed his hand into a tight fist. “I think they may have been responsible for the damage done to the dam in Zora’s Domain. Sidon thought that it must have been sabotage. And they never discovered who outfitted the lizalfos with so many shock arrows.”

Impa nodded slowly. “Yes, I agree. In all likelihood, that was an attempt to wipe out the Zora. But that raises even more questions. How did they know that the Zora would be vulnerable to such an attack? Were they aware of the Divine Beast’s awakened state? Could they have somehow coordinated with it?”

“Rudania was the same, though I did not see any signs of sabotage there. It seemed to be trying to wipe out the Gorons with Death Mountain’s eruptions.”

“Which means that it is likely that the other Divine Beasts have likewise awakened and will be causing disruption and mayhem for their respective peoples. And it is very possible that you may encounter further Yiga sabotage as well.”

Link grimaced. “And assassination attempts. There are two more of them waiting for me on the path leading down from Death Mountain.”

Impa pursed her lips, gripping the mask even more tightly—so much so that her knuckles grew white. The mask snapped in half with a sharp crack that made Paya yelp behind him. Shards of the mask fell to the floor in a cloud of white dust.

“Fools. We’ve been fools,” Impa said, voice bitter. “That damned Rito traveling around, proclaiming that the Hero has returned from the grave to defeat the Calamity, while you’ve been flaunting the old Champion’s tunic. We should have known that this might happen.”

Kass?

“You told me to wear it. That it would give people hope,” he said, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Yes, and I was a fool to suggest it. Hope is a wonderful thing, but now I have only painted a larger target upon your back. I fear that the Yiga will not give up until they succeed in their mission, Link.”

“I’ve freed two of the Divine Beasts. Someone was bound to notice eventually.”

“Yes, but time is a luxury that we cannot afford,” Impa spat. She looked furious, cheeks blossoming with an angry flush as she looked down at the two halves of the Yiga mask. “It is possible that you may have been able to cross the country and free another of the Beasts before they found you. Now they know who you are and what you are doing—and they will know that you will be heading west to finish what you have started.”

Link grunted. He hadn’t considered that. The Yiga would almost certainly be waiting for him at both the Gerudo and Rito regions. They would ambush him. Perhaps try to kill him in his sleep, as Delia had attempted, or wait for him to pass and attack when his back was turned.

“And we must also assume that there are Yiga spies among the Sheikah,” Impa said, closing her eyes.

“Grandmother?” Paya said, looking worried. “Do you really think that someone in Kakariko Village would be spying for the Yiga?”

“It is a possibility that we must face.” Impa slowly opened her eyes again, expression dark. “It is not a stretch to think that someone might have deduced your next destination following your victory at Zora’s Domain. Having two separate groups of assassins showing up at the same place suggests coordination, however. And, for all his bluster, I do not believe that Rito made any mention in any of his songs or stories of where you would be headed next.”

“But just about everyone in Kakariko Village knew,” Link said, his heart sinking. “I came here to gather information on Death Mountain and the Gorons before I left.”

“Exactly. Oh, I should have seen this. I used to be sharper than this. Curse these years; I’ve grown soft.” Impa fixed the broken mask with a fierce glare.

Silence fell for a time. Finally, Paya said in a softer voice. “And two of them are waiting for Link to return?” She sounded terrified.

It was a fair concern. Link would have to get past them sometime, which meant a very high likelihood that he would have to kill them. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Impa nodded gravely. “From here on, Link, you will have to be more vigilant than ever before. Trust no one. Don’t wear your Champion’s tunic while traveling, either. It would be good to try to disguise yourself as well. Grow a beard. Change your hair. They may have a description of you.”

“I’ll still be conspicuous,” Link said, grimacing. “No one travels alone.”

“True enough. But that may be able to help you just the same. Other travelers you meet on the road should give you pause. The Yiga will rely on surprise and trickery, rather than attack you in numbers. Use that. I have little doubt that you are a greater warrior than anyone the Yiga can throw at you.”

He had barely survived his first encounter with a member of the Yiga clan. He wasn’t sure what he could do if fighting two or more of them at once. He nodded, however. There was nothing else to it.

“Isn’t there anything that we can do?” Paya asked.

Impa gave her granddaughter a sad smile. “If I knew of a way to help, I would happily give it. But we do not have the means to patrol the roads and root out the Yiga.”

“What about Hyrule Field? No one travels through there, right?” He looked towards Impa, eyebrows raised.

Impa’s expression grew even graver. “In traveling through the field, you would be trading one peril for another of equal danger. Hyrule Field is a no man’s land. Monsters inhabit the ruins, and Guardians are said to still roam near the castle.”

“At least I can see those threats,” Link said. “I’ll be going to the Rito next, but we’ll tell people that I’m going to the Gerudo. Maybe it will be enough to throw them off my trail.” It seemed cowardly, but Link was still only one man. If the Yiga deployed a large force to try to stop him, then he would likely perish. He needed to move quickly and from a direction that they wouldn’t expect.

Impa considered for a time and then nodded. “It’s a good plan, Link. Risky, but I fear that the Yiga will persist in their hunt for you. I do not believe that they would have only sent three of them to find you.”

Paya walked over, seeming to have forgotten Impa’s order to remain by the door. She sat down on a pillow next to them, face pale. She’s scared that I’m going to be killed, Link thought. It was touching, really. Since his awakening, it didn’t feel like there were a lot of people who were concerned for his safety.

“I’ll be all right,” Link said, trying to inject more confidence in his tone for Paya’s sake. “I can handle bokoblins just fine, and I won’t stray too close to the castle.”

It would have to do. He glanced towards Paya, still able to see the worry creasing her forehead. Before he could say anything else to ease her worries, there was a soft knock at the door.

They all froze, looking around at each other in a tense silence. Link reached for his sword.

“Lady Impa?” Dorian’s voice through the thin wall. “I apologize for disturbing you, but there is a man here to see you. He says that he’s an associate of your sister?”

Impa’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked at Paya, nodding. The younger Sheikah quickly rose, hurrying over to the door and sliding it open. Outside stood Dorian and another man that Link recognized.

“Symin?”

Symin looked at Link in surprise from over Dorian’s broad shoulder, eyes widening behind his square-framed glasses. “Link, how fortuitous to find you! Purah sent me here to see if Lady Impa knew where you were.”

Dorian allowed Symin to enter after a nod from Impa, and Link noticed something hanging from his hip that he hadn’t noticed before. It was a Sheikah Slate, though different than Link’s. It lacked the refinement and design aesthetics of his own, being larger and boxier. It was attached by a thick wire to another attachment hanging off of Symin’s waist.

“And how is my older sister?” Impa asked, lips quirked into a smile. “Has she figured out how to revert back to her proper age yet?”

Symin’s expression grew alarmed, eyes darting between Link and Impa. “Oh, I had not realized that others knew of her… condition.”

Impa merely cackled.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“You told her? Snap, Link, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone! Especially not my sister.”

Link stood silent as he endured the dressing down by the old woman in the six-year-old body. He had traveled with Symin back to Hateno Village, utilizing the teleportation rune’s new capabilities. Purah had, apparently, gotten the rune to work on her own Sheikah Slate.

Beside him, Impa only laughed again, though Link could see tears in her eyes. Purah looked as if she were holding back her own emotions as well. Impa had decided that she would come with them, and before Link could mention the limitations of a single traveler limit on the runes, Symin nodded and instructed her to stand beside him. Paya had been left behind for the time being to ensure that no one would know that Impa had left the village.

They traveled together to the hilltop overlooking Hateno Village, and Symin hurried inside to inform Purah of what had happened. Moments later, Purah had burst out from the laboratory, red in the face.

“You’ve really gotten yourself in a mess this time, sister,” Impa said, moving forward. Link noticed that, even with her back bowed, she stood a few inches taller than Purah, even not counting her pointed hat.

“And you got old, sis.” Purah grinned at her sister, looking her up and down. “How are you even still alive?”

Purah sniffled. So did Impa.

And, quite suddenly, the two women embraced tightly, tears streaming down their faces. Link watched the reunion for only a moment before growing uncomfortable and stepping away, soon joined by Symin, who wiped at his eyes beneath his glasses.

“I kept telling her that she should go see her sister,” Symin said after a few moments, careful to keep his voice quiet. “Once she got the rune working on her Sheikah Slate, and we discovered that the activated shrines and towers were all available to travel to. She refused, though.”

Link nodded slowly, trying not to listen to the sounds of the reunited sisters behind him. It hurt him for some reason that he could not place. Another hole in his mind where a memory should have been, perhaps.

“How did you transport Impa here?” he finally said, looking over at Symin. “Purah told me that it would only work for one person.”

“Well, that was part of the reason that Purah asked me to go to Kakariko Village. She figured that you would visit there after you defeated the Goron Divine Beast and wished to leave a message for you to make sure to visit her before going anywhere else.

“She wants to upgrade your Sheikah Slate. She has managed to improve upon the teleportation rune in such a way that multiple beings are able to travel together now.”

“Would it work with my horse as well?” Link asked, hopeful.

“I am not sure… That would be a question best asked of Purah. I do believe that was her intent, however. She has been working on that modification since you first arrived here.”

Link glanced back at the two sisters, who were still standing close to each other, speaking in soft tones. He wondered how long it had been since they last saw each other. Surely, they had seen each other in the last century—Kakariko and Hateno were not so far from each other. A three-day trip on horseback. Likely only four or five on a cart. From their reaction, though, it seemed to Link that it had been a truly long time, indeed.

He asked Symin, who shook his head sadly. “I do not know. To the best of my knowledge, they have not actually seen each other since I began working with Purah—what has it been now? Sixteen years? Perhaps seventeen. She tends to avoid speaking of such matters.”

All to ensure one of them would be safe and able to help me. He hated thinking about the sacrifices that everyone had been forced to make. Of course, he also knew that Impa would likely slap him again if he started dwelling on such things.

In time, Purah and Impa parted, both wiping their eyes. When Purah finally spoke, her voice sounded hoarse. “Well, come on. I’ve got some work to do, and I don’t have all day!”

“You’re sure that it’s going to work with my horse, too?” Link asked, looking down at the Sheikah Slate in his hand. Nothing appeared different than before, despite Purah’s assurances.

“Linky?”

“Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t be questioning my genius, would you?”

Link looked down at Purah, who glared up at him with a look every bit as fierce as an adolescent girl could muster. He hesitated only a moment before finally saying, “No.”

“Good!” After a pause, she continued. “I promise that it will work. I even tested it on Mule! We arrived in one piece just fine—though he really didn’t like appearing on top on of a Sheikah Tower. I don’t recommend doing that with your horse.”

“How close do I need to be standing next to him?”

“You’ll see. When you select the rune now, it will project a ring around you on the ground. You’ll need to select it a second time for confirmation. Anyone in that ring will get teleported. Anyone outside won’t.”

“And anyone halfway in it?” Link asked.

“Will have a very bad day.”

“Right.”

“And I bet you’re thinking about how you can use that in combat again, aren’t you?”

Link grinned down at Purah, who rolled her eyes. He strapped the Sheikah Slate back onto his belt. “Really, Purah, this is great. It’s going to make traveling a lot easier. Hopefully Spirit doesn’t throw me the first time I use it with him.”

“Snap, I hope he does!”

Impa snorted from her chair, where she was sipping at a mug of steaming tea, freshly brewed by Symin. She was sitting at Purah’s table, which was covered, as always, by stacks of papers and several books. Purah whirled on Impa, sticking her tongue out at her. Impa sneered. “Even when you weren’t in the body of a child, I was always the more mature one.”

“As if you don’t remember the pranks we used to pull together,” Purah said, looking impish. She climbed atop her own chair, which was taller than the others to give her easier access to the table.

Impa lifted her cup to her mouth, taking a dignified sip before replying. “I only seem to recall covering for you so you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“Yeah, and I remember covering for you when you spent the night with that squire.”

Impa choked on her tea, and Purah cackled. Link suddenly found a series of diagrams on the table very interesting.

“That…” Impa pursed her lips, glaring at Purah. “Let’s not speak of that to my granddaughter, shall we?”

“Yes, wouldn’t want to corrupt sweet Paya,” Purah said, nodding. There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’d better bring her here soon. I want to see my grandniece again. Now that I’m younger, I bet I can keep up with her prattling better.”

Their bickering continued for a time, but Link found that he enjoyed listening to it. Somehow, this felt like an accomplishment to him. Things had progressed far enough now in his journey that the sisters felt comfortable enough to abandon their self-imposed exile. Perhaps it was time to bring all three of the old Sheikah back together. He made his way around to the opposing side of the table, sitting in a chair himself.

“Did you get Robbie’s letter?” he finally asked, interrupting what sounded like it could have been a fight waiting to happen.

“Letter? No.” Purah asked, looking over at Link.

“I visited him in the Akkala Highlands before heading to Death Mountain. He got your letter about me. He sent one back.”

“No, it never arrived.” Purah shook her head. Then her eyes widened, and she looked at Link, horrified. “You didn’t…”

“I didn’t what?”

“You did!” She buried her face in her hands. “You told him all about my de-aging rune, didn’t you?”

“Oh, well…” Link gave her a sheepish grin. “Yes.”

Purah picked up a pencil from the table and threw it at him. It spun past his head. “It’s a good thing that you don’t remember anything from one hundred years ago. You clearly don’t know how to keep a secret.”

“That is a good point,” Impa said. “What of your memories, Link? You seem different now. I assume that more have begun to return.”

“Only a few actual memories. But I keep…” He didn’t know how to put it into words. What did one call the uncertain knowledge of having been someplace before without the actual memory of having done so? “Visiting Zora’s Domain and Goron City helped.”

“And the photographs?”

He touched the Sheikah Slate at his waist, his mind traveling back to the memory from the Spring of Power. He kept his expression as neutral as he could manage. “They’re helping too, I think.”

“Good. I’m pleased to see that your memories are beginning to come back to you. The princess will be as well.”

Silence fell between them for a moment before Purah grinned, slapping her palm down on the table. “This is going to work, isn’t it?” She looked between Impa and Link. “I mean, Linky has already taken out two of the Divine Beasts!”

“Yes,” Impa said, setting her tea down on the table and leaning forward to look at Link. She steepled her fingers. “Which brings up an important question. Link, what of the Master Sword’s location? Any memory that might shine a light on where the princess may have hidden it?”

“No.” Link exhaled, looking down at his palms. “I don’t have anything that might suggest where it is.” He would need it soon. Too soon, perhaps.

Impa pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “I had hoped that it would have revealed itself to you. But I am sure that she is right. The princess was adamant that it would be revealed at the right time.”

He remained silent for a time, struggling to truly comprehend those words. Just like when she’d spoken of it before, it felt naïve. “I hope you’re right,” he finally said. “Because I don’t want to have to test whether or not Robbie’s sword is going to be able to cut it against Ganon.”

Purah snorted, bursting into a fit of giggles. “Did you mean to say that?”

Link looked at her, nonplussed. “I… What?”

“Cut it.”

“Oh, by the heavens above…” Impa said, sighing.

Link opened his mouth but then shut it. His lips turned up, forming a small smile. “You have a pretty sharp ear to be able to catch that.”

Purah’s eyes widened, a grin forming on her lips. “Linky, I think I’m beginning to like you. You never struck me as a punny guy before.”

“Oh, he was,” Impa said, groaning. “And they were always terrible. He just only told them to the princess, because she was the only one who would laugh at them.”

And Mipha. I told them to Mipha, too. And Daruk. Daruk could never understand them, and Mipha always seemed shocked when I would blurt one out, Link thought, a lump forming in his throat. Brief memories flashed through his mind. Daruk, scratching his head. Mipha’s eyes widening, lips forming a surprised O. Zelda. Princess Zelda snorting, trying to hide a smile behind her Sheikah Slate.

“—because of his memories returning? Because, if not, then that might suggest that personalities really are more to do with nature, rather than environment. Perhaps, personality and memories are not nearly as closely tied as one might expect.” Link noticed that Purah was scribbling some notes onto a piece of paper on the desk, speaking aloud as she did so.

Link cleared his throat, trying to clear the flashes of memory from his mind. “Maybe the three of you should reunite.”

“I—what?” Purah looked up, squinting at him. Impa was looking at him as well, eyebrows raised.

“That’s what Robbie’s letter said. He wants to meet with the both of you, and I think you should, too.” Link said. Impa nodded. “I know you’ve stayed apart all this time to help me, but…” He looked away, fixing his eyes on a point on the wall. “As I regain more memories, I wish… I wish I had more time to spend with the friends that I lost.”

“Oh, now he’s spouting off wisdom. That’s definitely new.” Purah went back to scribbling notes on her paper.

Impa ignored Purah, still looking at Link. “I think that you are likely correct. We need to begin planning. It seems to me that in another couple months’ time, we may be facing the prospect of rebuilding a kingdom.”

“Two months?” Purah said, looking up. “Snap. That doesn’t give you much time, Impa!”

Impa leveled another of her hawkish stares at her sister. Purah sneered, but then shrugged. “I guess we should, huh? Since Linky here already spilled the beans on my secret.” She shot him a glare. “Not really any point in hiding anymore, either.”

Impa tapped the side of her teacup with her index finger. “We cannot have the meeting in Kakariko Village, however. If we do house a Yiga spy, then it would not do to have them notice our gathering.”

Purah shrugged. “We can do it here. I’m way up on a hill—we’d be able to see someone coming for miles. Loose-lips over here activated a shrine near the old lighthouse, according to my map. I can send Symin to fetch him whenever we want to meet up. Next week?”

Impa nodded, finishing the rest of her tea. “Next week.” She eased off her seat. “I need to get back to Kakariko Village before anyone notices my absence. I suppose that I will be forced to walk down from the hill, won’t I?” She scowled. “That’s inconvenient. It will be impossible for me to hide that I left the village.”

“It is for now,” Purah said, an excited light in her eyes. “I’m working on another invention that will let us create new teleportation points. I’m calling it the travel medallion. It doesn’t work yet, but it’s getting closer. I think.”

“Which doesn’t help me now,” Impa said, sighing.

Link reappeared an hour later upon the Sheikah Shrine inside Hateno Village, feeling disoriented as the village appeared before him. I don’t think I’ve ever traveled so much by Sheikah Slate in one day, have I? Maybe it was beginning to take its toll on him. Or maybe he was just exhausted. He had been in Goron City just earlier that morning.

He stepped down from the steep incline, his equipment feeling heavy on his back and shoulders. He could make out his house from here, sitting just across the ravine. He began to make his way towards the bridge.

“Link?”

He stiffened at the voice. He hadn’t heard it in quite some time now. Turning, he spotted Telma standing near a couple of other women that seemed to have gathered near one of the wells in town, right next to the general store. She looked at him with wide eyes, clearly having not expected to see him slinking out from behind the silo.

The tall, red-haired woman suddenly grinned, hurrying around the surprised women, wrapping him in a tight embrace. “Boy, it’s so good to see you!” She pulled back, holding him at arm’s reach. “Look at you. You look like you’ve been to hell and back since I last saw you.”

“Not hell. Just Death Mountain,” Link said, lips twisting into a wry grin.

Telma laughed, the sound of her voice echoing off the stone buildings around them. “You’re going to have to tell me about that one. I’ve been hearing all sorts of tales about you, and if half of them are true, then… I’m impressed.”

Link gave an embarrassed smile, but Telma patted his shoulder. “Where are you going? Are you staying in the inn? I hadn’t seen you.”

“No, I actually, uh… I have a house here.” He pointed towards the house across the ravine.

“You have gotten around since we last spoke. Why don’t you tell me about it? I’d love to hear it in your own words, rather than the exaggerations that are being passed around town.”

“They’re talking about me?” Link grimaced. News traveled very fast, indeed.

“Well, with that Rito bard at the inn, you’re bound to be the talk of the town.”

“Kass?”

She chuckled. “Well, there’s one bet that I lost. I bet old Sayge that he’d never even met you.”

“Oh, we’ve met. And most of what he’s saying is actually probably true…”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, come on. Why don’t you drop your things off, and you can tell me all about it. Show me your house while you’re at it. I need to make sure you’re taking proper care of yourself.”

Link reluctantly led Telma back over to his house, opening the door and letting her go in before him. He walked over, pulling the equipment off of him with a sigh, resting everything against the wall. He walked up the stairs to the loft, opening the two shutters to let in some of the daylight from outside.

The light revealed a largely empty room. The lower floor was large and spacious but had no furniture in it. Instead, it contained a few odds and ends. The Sheikah bow that he’d received from Kakariko Village. An extra bedroll. A few spare cooking implements. A fireplace had been built into one of the walls, and it contained a few old logs from the last time he had been there. Upstairs was slightly better—he had a bed, at least, as well as a small chest. He’d put Mipha’s armor in this for the time being. There was little else to the house, though it did have a spare room directly underneath the loft. That room was empty.

Telma looked around, lips pursed tightly. “You don’t live here,” she said when she finally looked at him.

“Yes, I do,” he insisted, walking back down from his loft.

“No, you squat here. There’s a difference.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t really spent a lot of time here, I just…” He looked around the small home. Why couldn’t he remember anything from this house? Had he not grown up here? Or at least spent some time living in these very walls? “I needed a place that I could come back to. Keep extra gear. A bed of my own.”

“Well, I can certainly relate to that,” Telma said, her expression softening. “Still, though. You need to do more to make this place your own. Have those carpenters make you a table, for Din’s sake.” She looked over at his Sheikah bow, picking it up with a thoughtful expression. She held it out, placing it against the wall over his mantle, as if to see how it looks. “It’s a very nice house. An old one, though. Why not choose one of the newer places? Those come furnished.”

“Well, it was definitely cheaper, for one,” Link said, smiling at the memory. He hadn’t known what to make of Bolson. “And the house, it… uh… huh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his throat suddenly constrict. “It belonged to my family once. Before everything happened.”

“Oh, Link.” Telma set the bow down and walked over, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He stood there, allowing her to hug him, trying to control his breathing. Is this what a mother’s embrace might feel like? He’d surely experienced it before, hadn’t he?

The gaping holes in his memory suddenly seemed all the more real to him. He pressed his eyes tightly closed. His emotions warred within him, and he fought to keep them down. He was the hero, after all. He had to be strong. Courageous. Infallible.

Telma finally pulled away. She gave him a sad smile. “It’s a lovely home. I can see why you would want it.” He forced himself to nod, but still did not trust himself to speak.

She patted his shoulder and then turned, inspecting the bare walls. She turned and walked up the stairs, looking at the loft. Link walked over to his discarded equipment, bending down and beginning to rummage through his small pack. He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular—he really just wanted to give his hands something to do.

“Now, this is nice. What a great view.” Her words floated down from the loft. “You can see for miles from here. Hmm…” Her head peaked over the banister. “Why don’t you come up here for a moment?”

He stood from his pack, walking up the stairs. Telma stood by the window that faced west. She motioned for him to approach. “See the smoke column?”

He frowned and looked out the window. It took him several seconds, but he eventually saw the distant haze that she was indicating. It looked to be far away—ten to twenty miles, at least. Maybe more. Link frowned. For him to be able to see smoke from that distance, it had to be a large fire. Or many fires.

“There’s a big group of bokoblins and moblins gathering there. Have you seen them?”

It clicked in Link’s mind. The Sheikah Tower. He’d seen the group of monsters surrounding it his first time coming to Hateno Village. He hadn’t used the road to leave the village since, so he had not had the opportunity to look that closely since. “They’ve grown in number…”

“They have.” She pursed her lips. “It’s got some of the villagers concerned. They can fight off a small incursion—no one can survive around here without being at least somewhat prepared for the occasional raid, even if they rarely happen this far away from Central Hyrule. But that’s a big group. Bigger than any that I’ve ever seen in one place.”

A chill ran down Link’s spine. “Why do you think they’re gathering there?” he asked, squinting. After a moment, he pulled out his Sheikah Slate, using the telescope rune to get a better look. It didn’t help much—the distance was too great and the land wasn’t shaped in such a way that gave him a good view. It did give him a better idea of the scope of the camp, though, as he took in the sight of the smoke. Dozens of campfires. At least.

“I don’t know. They usually stick together in small bands. Maybe they’re trying to form some kind of settlement.”

Link shook his head. No. If they wanted to do that, they would use the vacated Hyrule Field. He thought back to his first meeting with Telma. She had been surprised to see the bokoblins attacking so far past the Dueling Peaks. They weren’t supposed to be here in large numbers.

“It’s an army,” he finally said, heart sinking.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He closed his eyes. An army of bokoblins and moblins. Hundreds of them, most likely. A small army, but against a bunch of farmers? It would be disastrous, even if the superior number of Hylians living in and around Hateno Village were able to fight them off. The villagers might be better equipped—bokoblins had rarely had more than wooden clubs from what he had seen—but they had not often been forced to fight over the last hundred years. The individuals that volunteered to watch at the gate were a clear example of that. If the monsters were to attack as a unified force…

“They’ll start raiding.” Link released a held breath. “Even if they’re not here to attack the village, they probably won’t have the means to work the land and store food. With that many of them in one place, hunting will become scarce there quickly—I can’t imagine that they’re good at preserving resources.”

His mind raced as he considered what would happen. They were maybe a day away by road. Less, if they cut across country. They could expand easily enough. Cut off the road west. There were enough narrow canyons to make it easy. If they did that, Hateno would be isolated. The village didn’t rely on trade, though, to survive. They grew their own food, and there were plenty of fields and forests around for hunting. They even had direct access to the sea, so fishing was also viable.

The problem would be when autumn and winter came. That’s when the bokoblins would start growing hungry. They would either start attacking each other, or they would start attacking the village. Raiding the food stores. Killing. It made him sick.

“The village need to prepare.”

“They are.” He looked at Telma, taking in her grim expression while she spoke. “They’ve been watching them closely. The blacksmith has been hammering out some weapons. It’s slow going, though—he’s their only blacksmith. The other one died a few months ago. He’s got some apprentices. I think that their woodsmen have started clearing some of the surrounding forests, too. There has been talk about building a wall.”

Good. That would help. A wall with raised platforms for archers would level the field. Still, though. The sheer size of the smoke column worried Link. Would it grow? The wall could protect those who lived in the village, but what of the outlying families? The farmers that lived away from the village? They would be especially vulnerable, especially as the monsters started looking for additional sources of food. And if the farms were lost, then… well, food scarcity could quickly become an issue.

Link felt worry bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Could he stop this somehow? Could he deal with an army of bokoblins? He was skilled in a fight, yes, but that was beyond any efforts of just one man.

“Maybe I can talk to the Zora and the Gorons. And the Sheikah. They can lend help.” Of course, they were each recovering from their own respective disasters. But surely, they could provide some kind of assistance.

“Good idea.” Telma squeezed his shoulder, pulling back from the window. “Come on. I didn’t mean to get you worked up about this, too. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Link allowed himself to be dragged out of the house to the inn as the day turned to evening. As he and Telma made their way through the town, they drew stares from the normal villagers. It made sense. Telma was an outsider, clearly Gerudo-blooded now that Link knew better what to look for, and he was… well, him. It didn’t bother Link as much as he thought it would, though. Perhaps he was just getting used to the stares.

It was a rowdy night at the inn. Half of the town seemed to have shown up, crowding around the tables and harassing Prima and the other staff. Link saw why as soon as he entered—along one side of the inn, the tables had been pushed back to form an open area. Kass stood in the center of this clear spot, his concertina held in his feathered hands.

“Link!” A sudden female voice from the crowd. Several people, including Kass, looked up as Nat stood up from one of the tables, hurrying towards him. Meghyn, who sat next to her, stood up as well, though she approached more reservedly.

“Popular with the ladies, it seems,” Telma intoned beside him, nudging him with her elbow. He felt his cheeks grow warm as Nat reached him, wrapping her arms around him in a quick embrace. Meghyn approached after Nat released him, and Link gave her a quick hug as well.

The next several minutes were an awkward bunch as some people broke into a cheer, apparently inspired by Kass’ stories of his victory at Zora’s Domain. Other murmured amongst themselves, shooting him wide-eyed glances. If it weren’t for the two sisters and Telma, he likely would have found a way to excuse himself. The sisters were excited to see him, however, and were happy to leave their table behind to go to an empty table off to one side of the room closer to where Kass still played. Telma excused herself for a time to go speak with Sayge, the man who ran the dye shop.

Eventually, the commotion died down and people stopped coming over to greet Link when Kass picked up playing another song, drawing the attention back to him. He didn’t play a song about Link, gratefully. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Kass telling people who he was. On one hand, it hearkened back to what Impa had told him about wearing the Champion’s tunic—it might have brought hope to the people. On the other hand, it may also have drawn the attention of the Yiga, not to mention Link’s disdain for the public eye.

“I think you chose the wrong profession if you don’t want people to know who you are,” Nat said in between bites of her meal, which Link noticed contained a large helping of truffles. He hadn’t spoken to them of the Yiga, instead commenting on the fact that it was getting difficult to go anywhere without people knowing who he was.

“I understand, though.” Meghyn sat next to Link, nursing an ale between her hands. She seemed to be shier now that Link’s true mission had been revealed. “It must be uncomfortable to always be in the spotlight.”

“I’m starting to get used to it,” Link said, watching Kass as his sonorous voice rang out over the melody.

“Well, you’d have to. People are going to find out when someone is going around, saving the world.” Nat angled her fork towards Link. “And that’s pretty much exactly what you’re doing.”

“Is it all true?” Meghyn asked. “That you saved the Zora? And that you’re trying to kill the Calamity?” Link nodded. “What about the princess?”

Link looked around at her. “What about her?” What had Kass been saying about them? “Princess Zelda?”

“Well, the stories that he’s been telling say that you used to travel with the princess as her knight, and that you are trying to rescue her so that you can restore the kingdom.”

Restore the kingdom? Link thought, brows furrowing. He had rarely even considered that as a part of his mission, despite what others thought. It seemed clear, though. If he defeated Ganon and rescued Princess Zelda, she would, surely, wish to be crowned queen of the land. It was her birthright. But what would his role be in that?

He realized that Meghyn was still waiting for an answer. “Oh, well, yes. I’m really just trying to take things one step at a time.”

Before she could say anything else, Prima brought over another mug of ale and set it down in front of him. He hadn’t asked for it, but then again, he hadn’t asked for the one he was currently drinking either. Someone else in the bar had bought it for him.

The conversation left the subject of Link’s adventures, which he was grateful for. He found himself enjoying the company even more when Telma rejoined them several minutes later, carrying a tankard of her own. The sisters knew Telma, it seemed, and immediately began to ask her about her own travels and what exotic items that she brought with her.

Link’s eyes wandered back over to where Kass was, accepting a few rupees from one of the villagers. He pocketed them in his money pouch and set his concertina down in its case, latching it closed. It was, apparently, time for him to take a break.

Excusing himself from the table, Link stood and approached Kass, who smiled broadly in the way of the Rito. “Link! I had not expected to see you tonight. How goes your journey?”

“Well enough,” Link said, moving to the wall and motioning for Kass to come closer. He glanced around, but no one was close enough to hear them, though most in the room were watching with keen eyes. “I need to know, though—have you been telling anyone that I was traveling to the Gorons?”

“No, not at all. I felt that it would be prudent to leave out the specific details of your future endeavors, lest any unsavory folk get the wrong idea.”

“Good. Because I had some run-ins with those unsavory folks on the road to Death Mountain. They tried to kill me.”

“Oh dear.” The Rito looked concerned, beak opening and closing rapidly for a moment. “I hope that my songs haven’t—”

Link shook his head. “No, it’s… They apparently hold a bit of a grudge against me.” Kass listened intently as Link told him about the attack on his life, as well as the two suspected Yiga awaiting him to come down the mountain. “I think I’m going to transport myself and my horse to Kakariko Village and leave from there. Cut across Hyrule Field.”

Kass nodded, but then his eyes widened. “So you mean that you have freed Vah Rudania, then?” At Link’s nod, he exclaimed, “Excellent! You must tell me all about it.”

“Are you going to make a song about it?”

“Of course.” Kass winked at Link. “Or, perhaps, a verse. One for each of the Divine Beasts.”

I chose the wrong profession, indeed, Link thought with a wry smile. There was nothing to do about it, though. Asking Kass not to sing would be like asking a Zora not to swim. It was who he was. And what about me? Did I ever truly have a choice in my profession?

Link led Kass back to the table, sitting back down next to Meghyn, and launched in the story of what happened on Death Mountain. As he told the story, Link noticed that several of the other villagers at the inn were leaning close to hear him. Feeling increasingly self-conscious, he rushed to the end.

Later, Link sat on the grass outside of his house, sliding a whetstone along the length of his silver sword. Kass sat beside him, tuning his concertina and humming softly to himself. Telma had remained at the inn, and the sisters had bid Link a good night as they left. Kass had asked to accompany Link for a time, however, but hadn’t told him why yet. Distantly, he could make out the slight orange glow from the fires near the tower.

“Kass?”

Kass looked down at him. “Hmm?”

“Did you fly near the tower when you were arriving at Hateno Village? Did you see the gathered monsters there?”

“Ah.” Kass looked up, focusing on the distant glow. “I did not fly too close for fear of archers, but yes, I did. I provided what I knew to the villagers. It did not look as bad as it might initially appear—from what I could see, the camp is very disorganized.”

That was something, at least. Perhaps the gathered mass would turn to infighting long before they grew desperate enough to attack Hateno Village. He could hope.

Silence fell between them again for a time before Kass spoke again. “I hope that you do not mind my asking, but which Divine Beast do you intend on traveling to next?”

Link looked up from his sword maintenance, meeting Kass’ eyes. For the briefest of moments, he thought about the assassins that were after him. Then he pushed such thoughts from his mind—Kass was clearly not associated with the Yiga clan. “I’m going to cross Hyrule Field to visit your people next.”

“You intend on avoiding the assassins on the road, I take it?” Kass gently set his concertina back in its case.

Link sighed heavily, nodding. “Impa from Kakariko Village fears that there may be Yiga spies among the Sheikah, so we intend on letting it slip that I will be going to the desert next. They should expect me to take the road west.”

“A wise plan. And, even if they determine you fooled them, you will be more difficult to track in the field. Wild horses roam several places in the field. Of course, so do other creatures. I must warn you that many of the old towns have become havens for all sorts of monstrosities.”

“I don’t mind sleeping under the stars.”

“Of course not. But you must be careful, still. Not all of the creatures that make Hyrule Field their home hunt during the hours of day.”

That sounded ominous. Grimacing, Link opened his mouth to ask Kass more about what he meant, but the Rito spoke again before he could.

“My friend, I wish to ask you if you would permit me to travel alongside you to my village. I had planned to fly to the desert, myself, but I must confess that the troubles with the Zora and Goron Divine Beasts have set my feathers on end. I would like to see my wife and children again to ensure that they remain safe.”

Link frowned up at Kass. “Are you sure? I’m being hunted by assassins, and I am sure that you could cross the field much more quickly than I will be able to.”

“Indeed, I could, but this way I might be able to provide you a service. I have flown over the field and recently; I know where many of the troublesome areas are and will be able to act as a guide for you.”

Link couldn’t deny how helpful that would be for him. Kass could provide him early warning of monsters and Guardians while also letting him know if they were being followed. Even better, Kass might be able to spot an ambush lying in wait. He would be a fool to reject this offer.

“Listen, I’m not going to ask you to do this. But if you are offering, then I can hardly refuse.” He hesitated. “But, if it gets bad, I want you to get out of there. Fly home to your family.”

Kass reached out, gripping Link’s shoulder firmly. “Of course, my friend. My calling is not one of battle—I fear that I would only provide a hindrance to you in such a situation.”

Link smiled up at the Rito, already grateful for his companionship. Traveling through Hyrule Field was going to be difficult and dangerous enough as it was. Perhaps, with Kass’ help, it would not have to be as bad as he had expected.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Kass, have you ever heard the name Arn?”

Kass looked at Link. The sun shone overhead, providing a bright, warm day. It was windier than either of them would like, but at least visibility was good. They both sat on a field of lush grass, surrounded by nothing by rolling hills. The nearest bokoblin encampment was at least a mile away, and Kass had seen nothing larger than a fox moving in their general area.

“Arn? Hmm… I cannot say that I have, Link. Is it someone that I should know?”

Link pulled up a blade of grass, running his calloused thumb along its length. He didn’t reply for several seconds. Finally, he said, “I think it’s my father’s name.” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force his mind to focus. To remember.

They had been walking—skulking, really—past a group of moblins that were fighting over the desiccated corpse of a deer, when the name had occurred to him. He hadn’t been thinking about his family or really anything except avoiding another fight, yet the name had surfaced in his mind, like a piece of driftwood bobbing up from the depths of the sea. Just the name, at first. He hadn’t even reacted—he just kept walking while holding tightly to Spirit’s reins.

After they had gotten past the moblins, which had well and truly begun to fight each other, he turned the name over in his head. It was a familiar name, yet he could recall no face. No personality. No memories. But as he considered it more and more, he was able to identify certain… feelings that arose within him as he considered it. A name that he respected and looked up to. A name that he aspired to be worthy of. A father’s name.

Remember, Link, he told himself, gripping the little blade of grass in his hand. He heard Kass’ voice but it was mere background noise. So close. So close. Arn. Father.

A smiling man with a bushy mustache, long blonde hair, and thick arms. His expression was warm. Proud. Link had just bested a knight. True, the knight had probably been toying with the child, who was only four at the time, but that wasn’t how the boy saw it. And by his father’s expression, it wasn’t how he saw it, either. All either of them had seen was the way the boy Link had deflected the knight’s sword—a thin stick—and then struck him on the wrist to force him to drop it. Link had disarmed his opponent, and every soldier knew that was as good as any victory.

Link gasped as if coming up for air. He grasped at the memory, replaying it in his head, trying to memorize ever detail. The man’s smile, his laugh, the way he had reached out with his enormous hand and tousled Link’s hair. Arn. His father.

“Link?”

He shook his head, struggling to find the words to describe what he felt. His father. He had seen his father. Like an open floodgate, other memories began to pour in.

Riding in the saddle with his father across the bridge to Zora’s Domain; seeing him standing guard at a door in a navy-blue uniform with golden accents; sparring against him with practice swords within the castle grounds; wrestling on the ground with him in Hyrule Field; tracking a deer through the woods outside of Hateno Village. It was all too much.

Link reached up with a shaking hand, touching his cheek and feeling the wetness there. He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I hadn’t expected…”

Kass looked at him with concern but chose not to speak. Link took a few moments to compose himself before, finally, clearing his throat again and standing. “We should keep moving. Those bokoblins from earlier had horses, and they might still be looking for us.”

As Kass rose, Link walked over to where Spirit stood, reaching up and scratching the horse’s nose. Spirit nickered affectionately, and he reached down, pulling a sugar cube from his pack—a treat that he had discovered Spirit had a great fondness for after spending so long at the Death Mountain trading outpost.

Link had retrieved Spirit several days prior, utilizing his upgraded Sheikah Slate to transport to the Death Mountain tower and then used it to depart the base of the mountain once he was out of sight of the outpost. He never saw the awaiting Yiga, and they would never see him. The next few days had been spent preparing for the trip across country.

During his preparations, Link had sent Kass to the Zora, allowing him to use the Sheikah Slate for quicker transportation, to discuss the increasing monster situation in the Necluda region. The results had not been as conclusive as Link had hoped. Though Sidon had agreed readily, King Dorephan had not been so willing to send his soldiers so far outside of their home without further consideration. Sidon promised to speak with his father further, even going so far as to suggest that he might just take a squad and do it himself, if Dorephan refused. It was something, at least.

The Gorons had been more helpful when Link traveled back to Goron City, but only just. Bludo, like Dorephan, was hesitant about the amount of support he was willing to give up. He agreed to send some Gorons to help with the building of defenses, but only after he dealt with a large population of wild dodongos that had been uncovered in the Northern Mine. It appeared that Death Mountain’s seismic activity had caused rapid change to the mine, caving in old tunnels and opening others, including some inhabited by the large, fire-breathing lizards.

Even Impa had been uncertain of the number of Sheikah that she could send to Hateno’s aid, though she did promise support. It was a busy time for the agricultural community, and Kakariko did not have nearly as many warriors as it once had.

It would have to do.

When he departed Kakariko Village, he did so under the guise of intending on turning south once out on the road, riding towards the Gerudo Desert. Kass had not been with him lest anyone suspect him of the duplicity, choosing instead to join him at the Wetland Stable, where they had first met. If Kakariko Village did house a Yiga spy, Link hoped that they were fooled.

Crossing Hyrule Field in the open would be a difficult task. Even crossing the river Hylia was a challenge, for though there were still a handful of standing bridges, all led into areas watched by bands of monsters or were just too close to the castle and, therefore, at risk of being targeted by its legion of automatons. Once over the bridges, there would be other creatures, both large and small, that made the central region of Hyrule, with its lakes, plains, forests, and old towns, their home. Some would choose to run and hide, but others would surely attack them on sight.

Ultimately, they had opted on crossing the bridge nearest the stable. It was closer to the castle than Kass thought safe but would hopefully enable them to avoid crossing paths with a particularly large and dangerous band of monsters that made their home to the south, in the middle of a swamp.

They had been mostly right.

Departing the stable before dawn, Link made his way alone to the bridge in question while Kass flew ahead to scout out the area. He’d eventually rejoined Link at the bridge, telling him of a group of bokoblins that had made camp just south of the road in a wooded patch. They attempted to cross without incident, but a sentry spotted them, sounding the alarm.

What followed was a brief fight, followed by a tense escape. Two bokoblins had come for them on horseback, which Link had shot down with a pair of arrows. The other bokoblins had pulled up short at that, and he thought that they would be able to continue without further incident. Then about a dozen more bokoblins had burst from the trees, wielding all sorts of primitive weapons. The pair chose not to find out if they could take such a large group and ran. The bokoblins hadn’t given chase for long, as far as they could tell.

Link quickly found out why most people did not travel through Hyrule Field. Monsters were far more common on this side of the river than the other, and they seemed that much more territorial. They were at odds with the beauty of the land. The grass and the rolling hills seemed, at times, untouched and pristine, but then they would come across the remains of an old building, a fence, or a cart, and would be reminded of the life that once inhabited this land.

A road, overgrown from lack of use, led on a winding path through the field, but they quickly left it, cutting across the hills and through groves of trees in an attempt to avoid detection. Kass often took flight, flying around in wide circles, keeping an eye out for any trouble that they needed to avoid, such as the fighting moblins.

Their path was a slow one. The need for stealth greatly outweighed the need for speed in this case, and Link often spent a great deal of time dismounted, leading Spirit by the reins. He had begun to think it would have been easier to leave Spirit in Hateno Village and return later to retrieve him, assuming that Link would find another Sheikah Shrine near Rito Village, as he had the other major population centers, but it was too late for that now.

Only after passing by another roving band of bokoblins did Kass finally land on the ground beside Link again with a large flap of his wings, which sent a burst of air out in all directions. He looked at Link and nodded. “We’re past them. They didn’t see either of us.”

Link exhaled slowly and stood up a little straighter. That hadn’t been a particularly dangerous-looking group. He felt confident that he could have won in a fight, but it would have been too out in the open—too visible to other groups in the area. And it would have made it easier to track their progress. They couldn’t risk the attention, if they could avoid it. Not as long as they were in the monsters’ domain.

“They patrol this area a lot,” Link said, reaching into his pack and offering an apple to Spirit.

“The bands are very territorial here,” Kass said, reaching up to stroke the feathers under his beak. “But I believe they are also keeping an eye out for rogue Guardians. I have seen some in my travels over the field. Some do seem to wander this far south.”

It sent a chill down Link’s spine. They had discussed the Guardians, of course, agreeing that the best option would be to try to walk the line between monster territory and Guardian territory. There were fewer large groups here. But the risk of coming across one of the six-legged automatons was higher, as well.

He reached down to down the quiver that held his ancient arrows. He had three remaining. Would one stop a Guardian, as it had the Blight in Rudania? Maybe. Robbie hadn’t been sure if a single arrow would do the trick. He hoped it would, if the need arose.

“There aren’t any around here, right?” he said, finally looking back up at Kass, who shook his head.

“Not at all that I have seen.”

“Good.”

Link forced himself to relax. If any of the Guardians had been walking near here, Kass would have seen it.

They began walking again, angling slightly more south to walk parallel to the road, cutting through a wooded area to remain unseen.

“Link?” Kass said after a few minutes of silence. Link looked up at him. “Would you like to speak about what you saw earlier? Your father?”

He looked down, frowning. “I’m not sure what there is to say. I still don’t really know anything about him, I just… I saw him. He was a guard.” He paused and then shook his head. That wasn’t right. “No, he was a knight in the Royal Guard.”

“Ahh…” Kass said, nodding. “An illustrious position, then. My teacher spoke of them in some of his lessons of courtly life. The Royal Guard was reserved for those that the king trusted most highly. They were not only expected to protect the royal family with their lives but were also exposed to all of the court intrigue, deception, and politicking that common folk and even other nobles rarely had the opportunity to see. They were secret-bearers and confidants.”

The memories of Daruk surfaced in his mind again. Princess Zelda had certainly not felt that way towards him. Not at the beginning. It was petty, perhaps, to think of such things now, but the hurt that he’d felt in those memories was real. He’d been scared. She had been too, he supposed.

“What of your mother?” Kass said, drawing Link back out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Link shrugged. “I can’t remember anything about her. I hadn’t even remembered anything about my father until today.”

Kass considered him for a time before speaking again. “I am certain that the memories will come. It seems to me that you are able to answer many more questions now of your past life than you were able to do so in Zora’s Domain.”

“I remember a handful of events and some minor details. I still don’t remember anything about how I grew up, what my relationship to my parents were like, who my friends—besides Mipha and Daruk—were. Sometimes, I…” He sighed, looking away. He was talking too much. “I feel like a stranger in my own body.”

Kass remained silent, listening. Waiting.

He continued. “It’s not just the big details, but it’s the little ones too. So far, I know that I’m good with a sword. What other skills do I have? What about my hobbies? There must have been more to me than the Master Sword.”

“Have the elder Sheikah been unwilling to share these details with you?”

“Well, no.” He looked down, frowning. “But I haven’t asked them. It feels like something that I should know myself. I don’t want to know facts about who I used to be—”

“You wish to be that person.”

He met Kass’ eyes and, after a moment, nodded. “Yeah.”

Kass smiled at him, chuckling softly. “I feel confident enough in my knowledge of history to say that you still are the same man now that you were then. I do not know those particular details, of course, but your personality and drive match the man that my teacher spoke of.”

“Were we friends? Your teacher and I? I’m sorry, I can’t… I can’t remember his name. I think you told me.”

The Rito chuckled again. “Rao. My teacher’s name was Rao. And no, actually. I do not believe you were friends. In fact, I rather think that my teacher did not particularly like you.”

“What?” Link stopped walking, frowning. “Why?”

“I suppose I am being somewhat facetious. I do not believe that my teacher would have considered you a friend when he knew you. However, in the years that followed your fall, he appears to have developed a great respect for you. His songs certainly reflect as much.”

“Did he say why he didn’t like me? Did I do something to harm or offend him?” Kass’ teacher was a court bard, right? Was Link somehow rude to the bard? Was he some kind of bully?

“Oh, no, not at all. My teacher was simply jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what? The Master Sword?” From what Link knew of his feelings holding the sword, he thought that he probably would have gladly given the responsibility for it up to anyone else who wished for it.

“Of the princess,” Kass said, his smile growing. “Or, I should say, of the time that you got to spend with her.”

“He didn’t like me because I was around the princess?”

“Oh, yes. You see, he was very fond of Princess Zelda. He loved her, but she…” Kass hesitated, and Link though he looked abashed. “She was almost never without her knight.”

Almost never without her knight. Link thought of the Spring of Power. He thought of the familiarity with which they had spoken to each other then and in other moments that he’d had a chance to glimpse. But he also thought of the memories he’d had with Daruk. She had not cared for him, had she? When had it changed? What changed it?

The conversation tapered off. Each of them seemed unsure on how to break the silence that followed, both of them holding onto words that were difficult to speak aloud.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 “Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight… the sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero. We pray for your protection, and we hope that—that the two of you will grow stronger together, as one.”

Link pursed his lips. She had spoken the words like a dead woman—cold and emotionless. Her eyes held nothing for him as she reached her gloved hand out to him, as if to anoint him with holy powers that she did not yet possess. They had all gathered on the Sacred Ground to the south of Castle Town—the place that legends held Calamity Ganon was defeated 10,000 years prior: Princess Zelda and her Champions. Link had knelt before her, as was befitting his status as a Hyrulean knight, and listened silently as she spoke the rites. It had been a painful experience for him, for her, and by the muttering he heard from the Champions, for them as well.

At least it was over. The Champions had all departed to return to their homes, Princess Zelda had gone back to doing whatever it was in her free time, and he had returned to… what? Being the Hero with the sacred blade, he supposed. What, exactly, was there even for him to do?

He was a knight—knighted only a short time after pulling the blade—yet he was given nothing to do as a knight. He had been given no land of his own beyond the land that his family was already responsible for, nor had he been put in charge over any other soldiers or keeps. He hadn’t even been given a page, as was to be expected when knighted.

So, he’d come to the castle grounds, intent on enjoying the beautiful day while he could. Rain was expected later—he could already see the clouds developing to the west, over the Tabantha Frontier. It would be upon them within a couple of hours.

When he stepped outside, however, he found that a small crowd had already gathered outside, forming a semi-circle around something that Link couldn’t see from his vantage. He approached the back of the crowd. As he did so, several of the people lined up glanced back at him and quickly parted, eyes wide. He could hear their mutters as he passed through the crowd, the people parting around him and reforming after he’d passed.

Hero, they called him. Chosen.

He never knew how much one could grow to hate simple words.

Once he reached the front of the crowd, he discovered what the crowd was there to see. The Sheikah had brought out one of their strange devices—the Guardians. This one sat inert on a cart, its long legs wrapped around its base, making it look like it had been settled onto a nest of some grey-white material. Its cylindrical head moved though, the strange Sheikah designs upon it glowing with a soft orange light. The blue eye in the center of its head pulsed blue.

Legends held that these things were instrumental against Calamity Ganon 10,000 years ago. Thus far, Link wasn’t really sure how useful they could be. So far, he had never actually seen one of them in motion, outside of simple head movements. They held no weapons that he could see. Their long legs ended in dangerous looking three-clawed feet, but were those the only weapons that they possessed?

“Your majesty,” said the Sheikah man in front of the cart. With a start, Link realized that he had emerged from the crowd only a few feet away from where King Rhoam and Princess Zelda both stood, each resplendent in their royal robes. The king glanced towards Link, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement, but Princess Zelda paid him no heed, instead staring with wide eyes at the Guardian.

“As you know, Guardians were used to defend the incarnation of the Goddess and the Hero against the Calamity 10,000 years ago, but we were unable to determine what functions they used to accomplish this task. Until now.”

The Sheikah spoke with the air of a street performer. Though he stood with his feet firmly planted on grass, he could have been standing atop a box or a bench, gesturing theatrically to the passing crowd. He had wild, shoulder-length hair that spread out behind his head like a pair of strange wings, and odd-looking goggles that he perched on his forehead, above his eyes. Link noticed that he had a curved sword belted to his waist and frowned. The Sheikah was familiar to him—he had seen him before speaking with Princess Zelda, often accompanied by the other, shorter Sheikah woman named Purah.

“You see, after weeks of dedicated study and experimentation, we have made a breakthrough in Guardian technology. We have discovered the weapons used by the Guardians to subdue the Calamity 10,000 years ago, and which will be used to defeat it if it dares to rise again.”

Link glanced over towards King Rhoam and Princess Zelda. The king looked calm, but a little impatient. His lips formed a straight line, and Link thought that the Sheikah man was rather well-composed, considering the king’s intense stare. Princess Zelda, on the other hand, looked rapturous. She looked at the Guardian with a broad smile upon her face and a posture that suggested that she was doing everything in her power to remain rooted to the spot, rather than running to get a closer look.

“Your majesty, with your permission.” The king nodded, and the Sheikah spun on his heels, snapping his fingers at a few other Sheikah members that had climbed into the cart with the Guardian. They began fiddling with some kind of controls that Link couldn’t see. Suddenly, the Guardian shuddered, its twisted legs twitching in the cart. The Sheikah attendants stepped back, careful not to trip.

“Now,” the Sheikah man said. Robbie! That was his name, Link suddenly remembered. He had been with Purah during the Champion ceremony. Robbie bent down and picked up a disc-like object from the ground at his feet. It took Link a moment to realize what it was—a wooden pot lid of the likes used in the kitchens. Robbie held the lid in his hand, smiling proudly at King Rhoam and the princess, and then whirled, throwing it into the air behind the Guardian. The pot lid spun through the air, arcing slightly.

The Guardian’s head twisted around, its blue eye tracking the pot lid’s progress through the air. Suddenly, from the eye, there was a brilliant flash of blue-white light and a sound like a thunderclap. A beam of some kind of energy shot out from the eye and struck the pot lid with a fiery explosion. A moment later, as the smoke cleared, Link saw the smoldering remains of the pot lid, now broken into multiple pieces, falling to the grounds below.

For a moment, there was a hush over the crowd. King Rhoam’s eyes were wide. Princess Zelda had covered her mouth with her hands. And then the crowd began to speak excitedly and clap. The princess joined their clapping, grinning. Link saw Robbie tip her a quick wink before clasping his hands in front of him and bowing low.

As the crowd’s initial reaction faded, Robbie raised his hands for silence before looking again at the king. “Another demonstration, your majesty?”

King Rhoam reached up and stroked his long beard thoughtfully. “Yes, go ahead.”

Robbie picked up another pot lid, holding it in his hand. The Guardian’s head lazily turned until the eye fell on the pot lid that he held in the air. Link saw its eye flash as it found its target.

The Sheikah threw the pot lid into the air again, but the lid had barely left his hand before the Guardian fired. The pot lid exploded with a loud crack, sending burning pieces of it flying over the heads of the crowd. Some people screamed, and others ducked, covering their heads with their hands. Robbie, for his part, immediately raised his hands, calling for calm.

“I just took too long to throw it. Everything is fine. Everything—”

“Robbie!” Princess Zelda’s voice. Robbie glanced at her and then whirled just in time to watch with horror as the Guardian, with its eye now focused on the small pile of pot lids by Robbie’s feet, fired again.

Link was far enough from the explosion that the shock wave only caused him to stumble, but he saw Robbie flung through the air, trailed by lines of smoke. The crowd surged backwards now, screaming and running as fast as they could. They had already begun to trample over each other in an effort to escape back into the castle.

The Sheikah attendants atop the cart were working to stop the Guardian now, yet nothing they were doing seemed to be making any difference. The pot lids that the Guardian had targeted had been scattered across the grounds, and the Guardian’s eye seemed to be seeking each of them out. It fired again at one that had ended up leaning against a tree. The blast cracked the tree trunk in half, sending it toppling to the side.

“Zelda!”

Link turned and saw that King Rhoam had stumbled in an effort to keep hold of Princess Zelda’s arm. She broke free of him and ran to help Robbie, who lay face down in the grass some ten feet away. Somehow, a pot lid had ended up half underneath his prone form.

No. Link’s eyes widened, and he glanced back at the Guardian, which seemed to notice the same thing he had.

He broke into a run, scooping up one of the other fallen pot lids as he went. He crossed the distance between him and the princess in what felt like an eternity. To his horror, he saw the Guardian’s eye flash as it prepared to fire on the princess of Hyrule and the incarnation of the Goddess.

Link yelled, gripping the pot lid by its handle, and thrust himself between the firing Guardian and the princess. The Guardian fired. Time slowed. Link swung.

The blast struck Link’s pot lid in its center, but it did not explode, as the others had. Instead, as Link swung his right arm out, as if to deflect a sword attack with a shield, he felt the lid connect with something that felt far more solid than he had expected. The beam of energy turned in on itself, redirected back in the direction of the Guardian’s pulsing blue eye. It struck with a powerful explosion that sent the two Sheikah attendants diving off of the cart for cover.

When the smoke cleared, the Guardian remained, but it trembled violently in its enclosure. The orange lights on its body flickered rapidly. And suddenly, with a blinding white light and the sound of a cannon blast, the automaton exploded, sending pieces of its body flying in all directions.

Link ducked his head behind his impromptu shield as chunks of the Guardian struck the ground and even the walls of the castle. None hit him or his shield, however, and soon silence fell over the courtyard. Breathing heavily, he looked around towards the princess and was surprised to see that she had flung herself down over the Sheikah scientist’s prone form, shielding him with her body.

Slowly, she looked up, appearing to be every bit as breathless as he felt. Their eyes met, green on blue. Her eyes widened.

“Zelda!” The king was suddenly at her side, helping her to her feet. “Are you all right? Were you harmed?”

“I’m all right. Nothing… Oh, no.” She pulled away from King Rhoam’s grip again, stepping up beside Link to stare in horror at the smoking remains of the Guardian—which mostly just consisted of the circular base upon which its head normally rested, and its legs, which were strung out in all directions. The cart had collapsed, its wheels snapping under the force of the explosion. She turned back to Link, face growing red with anger. “You destroyed it!”

“Zelda.” Her father’s voice was stern as he walked up beside her. Her eyes flicked to the king’s, and then quickly fell to the floor.

“Of course, I was merely… I was not myself. I apologize.” She did not look at Link, however, but at Robbie, who chose that moment to groan and slowly lift his head from the ground.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Robbie and the remainder of the crowd were seen to by medical staff within the castle. Miraculously, the Sheikah man was the only one who suffered any injuries beyond minor scrapes and bruises, and his injuries were not serious. He was taken to been seen by the castle surgeons, however, to ensure no bones were broken. Before he walked away, supported by a nurse under one arm, he pled forgiveness from King Rhoam, who grunted and waved him away.

Link stood rooted to the same spot that he had been when he deflected the Guardian’s attack. The grass in front of him had been scorched black in a line leading back to the broken cart.

Heavy footfalls behind him finally forced Link to turn, looking up as King Rhoam approached behind him. He quickly knelt, bowing his head.

“Rise, Sir Link,” the king said. Link did so, standing back to his feet. He noticed that Princess Zelda stood just behind and to the right of the king, eyes on the Guardian wreckage. “I must thank you for saving my daughter’s life. If you had not reacted in the way that you had, then she…” He glanced down towards the princess, who seemed much smaller now, standing in her father’s shadow, arms wrapped around herself. “I do wonder how it was that you knew that you could block that… attack with that lid, however.”

Link glanced down. He still held the pot lid in his hand. Charred wood covered its underside, where the Guardian’s blast had struck it. He glanced back up at the king, opening his mouth to speak. Words did not immediately come, however—his mouth felt suddenly parched. He licked his lips before trying again. “I didn’t, your majesty. I just… acted.”

The look on King Rhoam’s face indicated that this was the right thing for Link to say. His lips curled into a smile. “Yes, I can see that. It is abundantly clear to me that the Master Sword has not chosen poorly.”

The sword on Link’s back suddenly seemed that much heavier.

“As you likely well know, I have been searching for some time for a knight suitable to be Princess Zelda’s personal protector—”

Princess Zelda’s head snapped up as he spoke, eyes widening with a look of horror. She stepped up beside the king. “Father, no.”

“Zelda.” King Rhoam’s voice cracked like a whip, and she ducked her head, cowed by the sharpness of his tone. Link glanced towards her briefly and then back at the king, trying to keep his expression carefully neutral.

The king looked back at Link, expression stern. “As I was saying, I have been searching for some time for a worthy knight to guard my daughter on her travels to oversee the work done on the Divine Beasts, as well as her journey to attain the blessing of the Goddess Hylia.”

Link felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“After seeing how you protected her life today, with no thought of your own safety, I feel that I have been looking in the wrong places.” The king regarded Link quietly for a long moment before glancing around at the crowd that was still gathered nearby. He grunted and then looked back at Link. “Sir Link, I would discuss this with you further, but not here. Please, join me at my table for the evening meal. We shall hold our discussion at that time.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Calm. Stay calm. Do not let your emotions show. Not in front of the king. His eyes briefly flicked towards Princess Zelda, who met his eyes with a cold, emotionless expression. The sinking feeling in the pit of Link’s stomach only grew more insistent.

“Good.” King Rhoam reached out, placing a heavy hand on Link’s shoulder, squeezing. “I will see you then, my boy.” He turned, beginning back towards the castle.

For a moment, Princess Zelda remained firmly in place, still looking at Link. He glanced at her and found that her eyes were not on his face, however, but she was looking at a spot just over his left shoulder. At the hilt of the Master Sword.

“Zelda. Come.” King Rhoam had stopped a few feet and looked back towards his daughter, expression stern.

Link saw her shoulders slump slightly, and she turned, following in the king’s wake. He watched them depart, trying hard to keep his feet steady beneath him. Princess Zelda’s personal knight? It sounded like the worst possible position that the king could have put him in. And, from her own reaction, she felt the same way.

Head bowing in resignation, Link dropped the pot lid to the grass and began walking towards the entrance to the castle, intending on finding something nicer to wear for dinner with the royal family. Along the way, he could hear the whispers of the few people that still remained in the courtyard.

Hero, they called him. Chosen.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link had the memory as he slept. Far clearer than any dream he ever had before. He could still the weight of the pot lid in his hand, the heat of the Guardian’s blast on his skin, the cool breeze ruffling his hair. He could still hear every word as it replayed in his mind, over and over.

“Father, no.”

He sat up on his bedroll, facing towards the distant castle, which was lit by the ominous red light of Calamity Ganon’s Malice. Stars still filled the sky overhead, and the pale moon had not yet reached its zenith. Neither of them had opted to erect any sort of shelter, choosing to sleep under the stars. It would be quicker to tear down camp this way. They had no fire. The night was cool, but not cold, and a fire would have been a beacon to any nocturnal creatures that roamed the field.

There was a flutter of feathers and a rush of air as Kass landed just outside of the circle of their small camp. He stood up straighter and turned, eyes opening wide when he saw Link sitting up.

“Link?”

Kass was on watch currently. Neither of them felt comfortable sleeping when so thoroughly surrounded by monsters on all sides, so they had agreed to sleep in shifts and get back on the road well before sunrise to take advantage of the cover of darkness while they could.

“Hey, Kass.”

“Is everything all right?”

Link’s eyes didn’t meet his. Instead, he kept looking towards the castle, watching as the red haze lazily swirled around its broken towers.

We became friends, right? We did. I saw that. His memories were becoming jumbled, though. Confused. How much time passed between them? He had no way of knowing. No reference point. How long were he and Princess Zelda forced to be near each other before some kind of friendship developed between them? Could it really be called a friendship, if it was so forced?

Yet, in that moment, all he felt was the dread. He didn’t think that he had hated the princess. But her presence made him feel… miserable in his memory. He didn’t hate her, but she hated him. How could he feel any happiness in the presence of that? He hadn’t wanted anything to do with the princess or her quest, yet…

“Sometimes I wonder if I would be better off without the memories,” he finally said, quietly.

Kass settled down beside him on the grass, gazing towards the castle. “I take it that you experienced another memory. What happened in it, if I may ask?”

“I saved the princess’s life. And she hated me for it.” Grimacing at his own tone, Link shook his head. “Sorry. I think I just need some time to sort through my memories before I talk about them.”

“Of course.” Kass reached out, laying a feathered hand on Link’s shoulder. “Though if I may offer one piece of advice. I am a storyteller, and I know that there is always more to a story than what is told. Context is a vital part of any story and can often make the difference between a good tale and a poor one.

“Link, if you still lack context, as I assume that you do by nature of your memory loss, I encourage you to refuse to accept your memories just as they are. You may still be missing key moments in your life that would better explain the things that you have seen.”

Link nodded, appreciating the words and knowing the truth behind them, though he wasn’t sure that they made him feel better. He still couldn’t shake the words that Princess Zelda had spoken or the look of horror that showed on her face. What, exactly, had he done to make her hate him so?

“Come.” Kass stood, stretching. “I assume that you are not going to be getting any more rest, and I have just completed my reconnaissance of the surrounding area. We have an open window right now and should be able to move more quickly for a time.”

Link pushed himself to his feet, nodding again, but remaining silent. He helped Kass pack up their small camp, and together, they set off again into the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Mabe Village. That was the name of the little hamlet, according to Link’s Sheikah Slate. The village had long since been destroyed, of course. As far as Link could tell, none of the buildings had escaped unscathed, and few remained that were little more than their foundations and half-walls. But from what Link could tell, it had likely once been a quaint town. They had passed several overgrown and abandoned farms when approaching it, as well as a sizeable ranch.

Now what was left of the town had been infested by monsters. Moblins, to be exact. Kass had counted no less than fifteen of them when he had first flown over. No bokoblins with these towering beasts.

“What do you think?” Link asked, pulling back from his vantage point on a grass-topped hill overlooking the town. He looked over at Kass, who knelt on the ground beside him.

“It seems to me that the best course of action would be to avoid confrontation, if we can, but our options are limited. Further south are the mounted bokoblins that I saw earlier. I feel confident that you could defeat them, if forced to engage.”

Yes, he likely could, but it was risky. They were nearing the center of Hyrule Field now and had drifted much further south than they had originally intended. There were quite a few of old ruins in this area, and it was a favorite place for monsters to make their homes. It was also the most open of areas in Hyrule Field—rolling hills only occasionally broken by a small thicket of bushes or grove of trees. The day prior, they had spent most of the day hidden by trees.

“And north is where you saw the Guardian.”

“Yes.”

Link pursed his lips, trying to slow his suddenly rapidly beating heart. The thought of the lone Guardian that Kass had seen that morning sent panicked chills down his spine. It hadn’t been close enough to be a threat to them, but just the thought of it being out there, still searching for a target after all this time…

He thought of the way that he had deflected the Guardian’s blast in his memory. Could he use that? It seemed to him to have been nothing more than pure luck. Perhaps that was why Princess Zelda showed him no gratitude on that day—she knew that no skill had saved them. Just simple luck.

It rang hollow in his mind, and he pushed the thoughts to the side. Now wasn’t the time to be dwelling on the princess and her distaste of him. We were friends. We eventually got past that, he told himself, yet again. It did little to calm his nerves.

“I think we go north,” he finally said. He pointed towards the northern edge of the village. “Look, there are still a few walls standing. If we are careful, we can skirt around the village so we don’t have to go too far. That Guardian was still a few miles away, right?”

At least, it had been an hour prior, when Kass returned from his scouting flight. Hopefully it still was. Kass agreed to Link’s plan, though he could tell that the Rito was still worried. This was the most dangerous part about cutting through Hyrule Field. They were in the true heart of enemy territory now, and a wrong step could see them surrounded on all sides.

Link carefully climbed back down from the hill and grasped Spirit’s reins, pulling the horse in the direction that they had decided on. Most of Link’s equipment had been strapped down tightly onto Spirit’s saddle to prevent it from rattling around while he walked. He only had his bow and a quiver of arrows currently on him.

He would have preferred to have Kass flying overhead, but their proximity to so many enemy forces prevented that as well. Kass needed too much distance to gain altitude, and he would be very visible while doing so. No, he would need to stay on the ground until they were at least a good deal past the moblins, and preferably the mounted bokoblins as well. They had archers.

They traveled north, using a forested patch that stretched north for a few miles to move more quickly. This one, thankfully, did not have any of the rock-spitting octoroks. The last wooded area they passed through had one, and the damn thing left a nasty welt between Link’s shoulder blades. He did notice a few exceptionally large spiderwebs, though. He wouldn’t want to meet the spider that made a web that size.

After giving themselves enough time to be clear of the village’s outer walls, they cut west again and left the forest, carefully rounding the ruins. Moblins, thankfully, were not the most observant of creatures, and no alarm was made as they made their way around Mabe Village.

Once they were past the village, however, they were in the open. There were no trees here, just wide-open fields. The ground leveled out a great deal as well, meaning that they wouldn’t have the advantage of hills to hide them from enemies.

Not good.

“Kass, can you fly now? I don’t like this.”

Kass looked around, using his strong Rito vision to gaze about for any enemies that might in the area and then nodded. It was still risky, but Link would feel much better knowing that Kass was high overhead. He spread his wings and flapped, moving forward and gaining speed rapidly. A few moments later, he was airborne and climbing.

Revali didn’t take off like that, Link thought, frowning. It felt wrong to him somehow, but he couldn’t picture exactly how the Rito Champion had flown. But it was distinctly different.

Sighing, Link mounted Spirit. Without any cover, there was no point in walking now. Best to try to cover as much ground as possible. He nudged Spirit into a canter, trying his best to sit low in the saddle as they made their way west.

Hyrule Castle loomed far closer now than it had ever been since he woke. It was, of course, still many miles away from him, but he could see better now that it sat atop a tall rock—maybe even a small mountain—allowing it to rise high above the surrounding landscape and drawing the eye to it from miles away. He was within a day’s journey of it. Within a day’s journey of Ganon. And Princess Zelda.

Goddess help me. I want this to be over. Could he ride north? He had defeated two of the Blights—would that be enough? Would his Sheikah weaponry be as effect against the Calamity as they had been against its creations?

As if to mock him, the hazy Malice that surrounded the castle suddenly began to swirl more violently than before. Link held his breath, watching as the Malice seemed to make a storm that swirled around the base of Hyrule Castle and then rose to its towers. With wide eyes, Link watched as the Malice began to take shape.

Calamity Ganon.

The giant creature, seemingly the size of the castle of itself, rose over the tallest tower, maw open wide in a roar that caused the ground to shudder. Spirit danced nervously, but Link did little to soothe the horse. His eyes were transfixed on the entity that now flew over the castle, circling it like a bird of prey.

“Please…”

His heart raced, and he gripped the reins with a white-knuckled grip.

“Not yet… Not now.”

A blinding light appeared in the center of the castle, just like before, but no feminine voice spoke to him on this day. The light did have an effect on Ganon, however. The giant figure seemed to wilt as soon as it appeared. The swirling Malice grew indistinct, and Ganon’s shape sank back down, breaking apart like a cloud caught in a strong wind. Soon it was gone, leaving only the faint red haze that was ever-present around the castle.

“Just hold on, Princess,” Link said. “Just a little more time.”

His words seemed insignificant. How could he ever hope to defeat such a monstrosity? The Calamity was enormous—far larger than he had even realized. It was easily as large as the Divine Beasts; maybe even dwarfed them. His attacks would be little more than pinpricks, even with a holy blade.

They must have all known this, though. The Princess certainly must have, didn’t she? Was the Master Sword just that powerful? The Divine Beasts? Was it the combination of all of these elements that would lead him to ultimate victory?

Shouldn’t I have some kind of special insight into this sort of thing? He nudged Spirit forward again, forcing his gaze away from the castle. After all, aren’t I the reincarnated hero?

Reincarnated hero. The idea made him uncomfortable. How did he measure up to the heroes of old? He imagined fairly low in that respect—how many others of them had been defeated in their fight against Ganon? The continued existence of the land seemed to suggest that none of them had failed in the past. Not until him.

Sighing softly, Link shook his head. Hadn’t he already dealt with these feelings before? Why was it that every time he felt even the slightest bit melancholy, he dwelled entirely too much on his failures? Failures from a century ago. Failures that he had already begun to set right—two Divine Beasts had been freed already! He was winning, so why did it so often feel otherwise?

He turned his gaze back on the castle. Ganon. It’s the one responsible. For his failure, for Princess Zelda’s imprisonment, for the state of the world. It was responsible for the deaths of countless people. Link thought back to the small town of Mabe Village. Razed to the ground by Ganon’s machinations.

“I’ll find a way,” he said, though his voice hardly sounded firm. He sat up straighter in the saddle. “I have to find a way.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link didn’t understand why they needed to stop at the Royal Ancient Tech Lab before continuing on to the Tabantha Frontier and Rito Village, but his opinion did not seem to matter very much for anything lately. What Princess Zelda wanted, she most certainly got.

They had set out the day prior, traveling west at an easy pace. It was to be their first real journey together. The princess and her loyal knight. Link could hardly believe that the king would even allow his teenage daughter to travel alone with a man. It seemed unsafe in quite a few ways. Of course, he was called the best swordsman in all of the land, though the sincerity of that title teetered between bitter sarcasm and awe, depending on who said it. There had been quite a few knights intending on competing for the honor of being Princess Zelda’s personal protector.

He was certain that any one of them would have made the princess much happier. At least she wasn’t glaring at him right now. Instead, she and the Sheikah woman, Purah, were standing over that strange device that the princess carried on her hip.

“Snap, I thought for sure that was going to work,” Purah said, tapping her lips. “There is definitely some other functionality that it’s missing. I mean, the code definitely mentions some other runes. What could Magnesis mean?”

“I’m still marveling at the images that it can capture.” Princess Zelda tapped at the screen a few times. From his vantage, leaning against the brick wall, Link couldn’t quite see what she was looking at, but he knew what she spoke of. They and the other Champions had all gathered together after the ceremony to have their photograph taken by Purah.

A slight smile crossed his lips at the memory. Daruk had completely ruined that first photo, but he found that he liked it, anyway. Particularly the way Revali had looked in the image, the pompous—

“What are you smiling at?”

The princess was looking back at him, frowning slightly. With a start, Link realized that he had been staring right at her while thinking about the picture. He stood up straighter, opening his mouth but then hesitated. The brief pause was enough to annoy the princess, who rolled her eyes and turned away from him again.

After a moment, he saw her sigh and look back at him. “You don’t… have to just stand there, if you do not wish.”

He hesitated and then stepped forward to stand beside her, curious about the device called the Sheikah Slate. An image of Hyrule Field showed on its face, as clear as though he were looking out of one of the castle’s many windows. It was quite beautiful.

“Oh, I meant, if you wanted to—” The princess stopped herself, glancing over at Purah, who shrugged. Link felt a sudden rush of embarrassment wash over him. She hadn’t been inviting him to the table—she had been attempting to dismiss him. Well, he was here now, so he might as well stay.

“How does it work?” he said, voice soft.

Purah gasped. “He can speak!”

Link set his jaw, refusing to look at her. He kept his eyes on the Sheikah Slate. After a moment, the princess cleared her throat. “Well, to be honest, we still don’t know for sure. But we think it’s this.”

She turned the device over in her hand and used her index finger to tap a small black circle of glass in the center of the Sheikah eye emblazoned onto its back.

“See?”

She turned the Sheikah Slate back over, resting it on one hand while using her other hand to manipulate the screen. She pressed a small green icon, and the screen turned black. Link frowned. Then she carefully used her free hand to grasp the edge of the device and pulled the hand she had been using to support it away. At once, the screen flashed with light and color. It took just a second before the image on its surface came into focus, revealing the wooden table beneath it. She moved her hand back under the Sheikah Slate, but further away now, wiggling her fingers as if to wave. She moved her hand closer to the back of Sheikah Slate until, suddenly, the screen went black again as her hand covered whatever it was that enabled it to take such clear images.

“So, we think that is the aperture for the camera rune, but we do not know how it works,” she said, finishing her demonstration by pressing a few more buttons on the screen to take the Sheikah Slate back to its normal state—the dark screen with a couple colored icons in the center.

“But check it! It’s only a matter of time before we get it figured out. Pretty soon, I’m going to have this thing all busted open and figure out how all of its internal parts work. And then I’m going to make my own. As soon as I figure out how to actually open it.” Purah leaned forward to look around Zelda, grinning at Link.

Link frowned for a moment, considering quietly. “But… how does it help us? Against Calamity Ganon, I mean.”

That was the wrong thing to say, it would seem.

Princess Zelda’s face grew flushed, her eyebrows raising. “Oh, well, that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s not very useful in a fight, so it’s not very useful at all.”

He opened his mouth to protest—he hadn’t meant it like that at all—but she plowed on ahead, not giving him a chance to speak.

“Why, we should just give up anything that isn’t directly related with Calamity Ganon, shouldn’t we? I might as well just throw the Sheikah Slate into the river—won’t be needing it when I face down the beast, my loyal knight by my side.”

He clamped his mouth shut. This was his fault—he never should have even said a word. Every time he tried, something like this happened.

“You know what, Purah? I don’t even think I should worry about bathing any longer. After all, it hardly has anything to do with my quest to defeat Ganon! And you never know—perhaps the Goddess will be so overcome by my stench that she will finally answer my prayers!”

Link backed away from the table, face burning with embarrassment. He decided to take Princess Zelda up on her earlier suggestion and walked out of the room, out into the sunlight. He could still hear her sarcastic tone all the way out the door.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link’s eyes opened, revealing the shadowy canopy of trees overhead. Another dream. Another memory. Why this one? What was his subconscious trying to tell him, besides the fact that he and Princess Zelda seemed incapable of sharing a kind word to or about each other when they first began their journey together?

Sighing softly, he pushed himself up to a seated position, peeling back the top of his bedroll. He slipped his legs out from the warm covering, the cool night air immediately chilling him. It was a particularly chilly night—much cooler than the night prior. He wished that they could have at least had a small fire.

They had made it across the open field without incident, settling down in a forest southeast of a mountain marked on Link’s Sheikah Slate as Mount Gustaf. They had been forced to turn south to reach the forest, but it was the only cover around for them to make their camp. Just like the night before, Link had taken the first watch, remaining awake until shortly after midnight. That way Kass could use the cover of darkness to scout out their path for the following day during his watch.

Kass wasn’t anywhere within sight. There would likely be at least another hour before they should get moving again—the moon was high overhead. However, knowing that there was little chance that he would get back to sleep with his most recent memory replaying in his head, he walked out of the circle of their small camp in order to answer the call of nature.

Distantly, he thought that he heard a wolf’s howl. Then he heard the snap of a branch. A much closer sound. He froze, keeping still as he slowly turned his head, eyes searching the darkness for any sign of movement. For a time, nothing moved, but then he saw it. A red light moving just beyond the shadowy tree trunks.

He squinted, trying to make out the object in the distance. As he focused on it, other details came into view. It wasn’t just a single red light, but several lines of light, crisscrossed in patterns reminiscent of constellations. It turned, and now Link saw a brightly glowing blue light. Its eye.

Guardian.

Link threw himself against the nearest tree. A twig cracked under his foot in the process, and the Guardian froze. The blue eye turned slowly to look at the patch of trees that he and Kass had made their camp in. It stood tall on six segmented legs, whole and dangerous. Link could remember all-too-well the damage that it was capable of doling out.

He waited, holding his breath, peeking out from behind the tree, hoping that the Guardian would move on. It didn’t. Instead, the Guardian moved closer to the tree line, still peering in in Link’s direction. It lifted itself up on its six legs, appearing to try to view in from a higher vantage.

After a moment, it lowered itself and began to move to the side slowly, still peering into the forest, searching. Link hesitantly glanced back towards his gear—his shield and sword were all back near his bedroll. To reach them, he would have to cross out into the open.

The Guardian continued to move, and he realized with horror that it would be able to see him if it continued on in the direction it was moving. Heart pounding in his chest, he sidled around the tree, attempting to keep out of view of the searching blue eye.

Just leave. Go. There’s nothing here.

The Guardian stopped moving—it was close enough that Link could hear the faint sounds of its clawed feet striking the ground. For as large as it was, it was surprisingly quiet. Link hesitantly peeked out from behind the tree again and nearly cried out in surprise—the Guardian had moved even closer to the tree line, and its blue eye was near enough now that he could see it pulse.

He waited, holding his breath. No fire came. No blast of energy or searing heat. No bright flash. Finally, the Guardian backed up from the forest, its blue eye turning away. It swiveled left and right for several seconds and then continued on its way, walking silently into the night.

Link closed his eyes tightly and leaned his forehead against the rough tree bark, breathing heavily. Cold sweat had broken out all over his body. He was trembling.

Goddess, how am I supposed to face those things again? They had killed him once. Would they kill him again? Somehow, he doubted that he would be waking up in another one hundred years, if they did.

Eventually, Link heard the soft whoosh of air that signified Kass’ return to the camp. He finally moved away from the tree, walking back on unsteady feet.

“Did you—”

“Yes.” Kass looked at him, concern clearly visible in his eyes. “It appears to have moved on for now. We should leave right away, in case it returns.”

Link nodded, and they worked quickly to gather up their supplies. He placed the saddle onto Spirit’s back and tightened it down. “It’s a good thing that it didn’t see Spirit,” he said.

“They don’t attack animals.” Kass glanced over at him. “I saw another one tonight move right past a deer. It did not attack it, though I am certain that it must have seen it. The deer showed no fear in its presence, either.”

Link frowned. “Maybe it’s not aggressive anymore?”

“I do not think that is it,” Kass said, shaking his head. “There are many stories of people being attacked while traveling too close to the castle. It is one of the reasons that so few people venture into Hyrule Field anymore. The stories would have one believe that there were Guardians all the way south to the Great Plateau.”

Link wasn’t sure what he thought about that. It was good to hear that they did not attack indiscriminately, true. He imagined that the forests in this area would have long since been burned down if they did. On the other hand, it means that they’ve been commanded to attack only certain living things.

“Do they target the other monsters?”

“I do not know, though I suspect that they must, due to the clear division between their territories. Monsters try to avoid traveling too far north, presumably to avoid entangling themselves with the Guardians.”

They finished packing their camp, and Link grasped Spirit’s reins. Together, he and Kass began to travel west, remaining in the cover of the trees as long as they could. Finally, as the sky began to brighten in the east, they exited the forest and angled north. They would rejoin the road soon and enter what Link feared to be the most dangerous leg of their journey.

The only way across the river that encircled Central Hyrule without going days out of their way would be the Carok Bridge, just north of Mount Gustaf. It was far closer to the ruins of Castle Town than either of them were comfortable with, especially now that a Guardian had patrolled so close.

There was also the growing fear of a Yiga ambush. In all likelihood, the would-be assassins knew by now that he had not traveled south on the road to the Gerudo desert. The ones lying in wait near Death Mountain may have also realized by now that Link’s horse was gone. They could be following across Hyrule Field. Worse, some could already be lying in wait for Link and Kass. The bridge would make for an excellent location to stage an ambush.

The grass here grew particularly tall, easily reaching up to Link’s knees and, at times, his hips. Kass occasionally took flight to do a wide circle around them, ensuring that the Guardian hadn’t turned back towards them. So far, it hadn’t, remaining a couple of miles to the northeast. The hazy pre-dawn light prevented Link from making out its distant figure. To matters worse, fog was beginning to settle into the valley, reducing their visibility even further.

He led Spirit by the reins again, but they moved with much greater haste than before. The sooner they reached the bridge and left Hyrule Field, the better. To their left, Mount Gustaf rose. Being near it was a hopeful sign—they were not so far from their destination now. They would reach it by mid-afternoon—even quicker, if they maintained their current pace.

“Have you experienced any more memories, Link?” Kass asked, his voice sounding tense. The fog was beginning to grow thicker, obscuring Hyrule Castle, as well as most of the other surrounding landmarks. It was unnerving.

The Rito probably needed to fly overhead again soon, but he admitted that the reoccurring take-offs and landings were beginning to take their toll on his body. Kass was growing weary, finding it increasingly difficult to gain the necessary altitude to remain safe and to do so quickly enough to be unnoticed. So, he filled the nervous silence with words.

Link could hardly blame him, though he wasn’t sure that he wished to discuss the memories that he had been having lately. Ever since arriving in Hyrule Field, he had been having flashes of memory, even outside of the dreams. Unfortunately, other than his brief memories of his father, many of them had left him feeling emotionally drained and… disappointed.

“I… think that I’m remembering my first trip to Rito Village with the princess.”

He could remember setting out from the castle with Princess Zelda, riding out of the stables side-by-side. He could remember their first tense night under the stars. She had erected a tent for herself, and he had cooked a simple stew for them to share. He didn’t think a single word had passed between them that night.

“Is that so? What was the purpose of the trip, if you don’t mind my asking? Something with the Divine Beast, I presume?”

“That’s right,” Link said, not meeting Kass’ eyes. He kept looking around for any sign of enemies. The fog was too thick to see anything well, anymore. “Revali had asked her to visit and make some adjustments. Something about how it couldn’t bank as well to the left as it could the right.”

He could remember her muttering to herself while sitting in her saddle, a little notebook in her hand. He didn’t think that she realized he was listening to her. Not that he had understood most of what she said—she had used words and phrases that still had no meaning to him, even now.

“She also had to speak to the Elder about…” Link frowned, looking down as he concentrated. “Something. I can’t remember what it was.”

Something about the memory of seeing the princess sitting alone, speaking to herself, brought a warmth to Link’s heart. He didn’t need his other memories to realize that must have been a common occurrence with her.

“I do my best thinking aloud. I assume that doesn’t bother you?”

“Hmm… I am not surprised that retracing your steps, as we are doing, would help you recall certain memories. If you have any memories of Revali, I would like to hear them. He holds a certain legendary status among the Rito people, and I have found it surprisingly difficult to learn much about what he was actually like, despite the countless stories we have of him.”

“Yeah, I’ll—”

The sound of a horn cut through the quiet morning, echoing off the mountain. Link cursed and whirled, looking around wildly, but could not find anything through the fog. Had they been spotted?

Maybe it’s something else. Not related to us at all. If we just keep going—

“There.” Kass pointed into the fog, and Link narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the shape. A moment later, he cursed, pulling the bow from around his shoulder and slapping Spirit’s rump to cause the horse to trot away.

The shadowy shape of a bokoblin on horseback came into view, riding hard with a wild expression on its pig-like face. It held a long wooden shaft with one end sharpened to a point, which it lowered in an attempt to run Link through.

An arrow suddenly sprouted from the center of the bokoblin’s chest. It looked down in surprise but made no sound as a second arrow lodged into its throat. The bokoblin slipped sideways, dropping the makeshift spear to the soft earth. Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t alone. Four more mounted shapes had appeared in the fog, all galloping towards Link and Kass.

“Get in the air, Kass,” Link said, eyes darting between the four approaching shapes. There were too many of them to take out with bowshot.

“Link—”

“Go. Circle overhead. Warn me if more are coming!” Link shot another arrow, this one sinking into a bokoblin’s shoulder, causing it to cry out in pain, and then raced forward to meet them, slinging the bow over his shoulder again. He grabbed up the fallen spear just in time to thrust it up into the ribs of another mounted bokoblin. The wooden shaft was long enough that he was able to plant its butt into the ground, successfully skewering the bokoblin and driving it off of its mount entirely.

He couldn’t afford to look back to make sure Kass had done as he ordered. Another bokoblin galloped towards him, wielding a sword with a broken tip. He pulled his spear free of the bokoblin that he’d run through and tried to do the same again, but this bokoblin knocked his spear out of the way with its sword. He barely avoided being trampled by the horse in the process.

Not good. They probably heard us talking—no way they saw us through the fog.

An arrow sank into the ground at Link’s feet, and he broke into a run, narrowly avoiding another thin shaft as it flew past his head. Before he could get a sense for where the archer was, however, the bokoblin that he’d wounded with an arrow earlier was there, furiously swinging a spiked club at his head.

He tried to parry the blow with his spear, but the bokoblin had the advantage and better leverage. The blow knocked the spear out of Link’s hands, sending it clattering to the ground. He pulled the small knife free of his belt and ducked forward, under another swing of its club, and swiped it across the bokoblin’s exposed thigh. It howled in agony, dropping its club, which struck Link painfully in the back as it fell.

The bokoblin kicked its horse back into motion, racing away, and Link stowed his knife again. He grabbed the fallen club in one hand, and the spear in the other, eyes darting around for his next foe. The sword-wielding bokoblin was still out there, as was the archer.

He began to move again, which proved fortunate. Another arrow whizzed past him.

There! He could make out the shape of the archer, but it was further away than he had expected. Maybe they could see through the fog better than he could? No time to think about it another, as the sound of hooves approaching informed him of the sword-wielder’s second approach.

Link whirled and hefted the spear over his shoulder. After a second, he found the bokoblin in the fog and threw the spear like a javelin. His aim wasn’t perfect, but it still had the desired effect. The spear sank deep into the bokoblin’s shoulder, knocking it cleanly off its horse to the ground.

Just got to get the archer.

He whirled again, looking into the fog for any sign of the last mounted and armed bokoblin. He spotted a dark shadow silhouetted in the haze and frowned. That looked too large… Too tall…

“Link, run!” Kass swooped down low, his normally calm voice suddenly panicked. Link’s blood ran cold.

The Guardian suddenly emerged through the fog, six legs propelling it smoothly into view. One of the bokoblins yelled something in their guttural language, and the Guardian turned its head toward it. It was the archer, who desperately shot an arrow towards the hulking machine of stone and metal. The arrow bounced harmlessly off its black body.

The Guardian’s red lights pulsed more brightly, and there was a flash of blinding white light. Link watched in horror as the beam of energy lanced through the fog, burning a line of it away in an instant. The beam struck the bokoblin and its horse in an explosion of fire. The horse screamed, lying on its side, half of its body engulfed in flames, and what was left of the bokoblin wasn’t even able to do that.

Frozen, Link could only stare at the carnage. He wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t thinking.

Six legs, clambering over burning wreckage. A blue eye pulsing amidst flames, aiming right at him, preparing to finally end his life.

“No!”

The other remaining mounted bokoblin bolted, racing away as fast as it could on its horse. The Guardian tracked it with its swiveling head and rose up higher on its legs. It fired again, and Link saw the ground under the bokoblin erupt. The horse and its master tumbled through the air, broken.

“You must run, Link! Move!” Kass was still circling overhead, flapping his wings madly. Link knew it was difficult for him to maintain speed and momentum this low to the ground.

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Guardian. It slowly rotated its cylindrical head, blue eye searching. It saw him. The lights on its body seemed to pulse with excitement, and it rose up taller on its long legs, preparing to fire. And, still, he remained immobilized. Fear gripped him in its inescapable vice.

Kass swooped low and stopped his forward momentum with a powerful flap of his wings. With surprising smoothness, all while suspended in midair, he grabbed his bow from between his talons and took aim. He shot an arrow that struck the Guardian directly in the eye.

The Guardian spasmed, the lights on its body flickering wildly. Kass dropped the bow, catching it in his outstretched talon, and flapped hard to maintain altitude. His feet briefly touched the ground before he took off again, flying low over the grass.

The Guardian shook off the attack a moment later, turning its head to track Kass’ flight. It fired a line of energy towards the Rito, but Kass banked just in time, narrowly avoiding being struck. Link finally broke into a sprint to the waiting Spirit, who pranced nervously.

He swung himself up into the saddle. The Guardian fired again towards Kass, but the Rito had gained enough distance and altitude now to render the attack meaningless. So, the Guardian turned its attention onto a much closer target. Link kicked Spirit into a gallop.

A beam of energy lanced out, striking the side of Mount Gustaf just behind them. Ducking low over Spirit’s back, he spurred the horse into as fast a sprint as they had ever done. He could hear the Guardian give chase, its legs propelling it forward to match his speed.

Link rode out onto the old dirt road, nearly overgrown now by underuse. Behind him, the Guardian pursued, sending another lance of white-hot energy across the ground nearby, igniting the grass in a line. He took a moment to look ahead to their path, and then turned Spirit north, back off of the road. The road ahead formed a canal, blocked in on both sides by the mountain and a combination of trees and old ruins on the other. It would make him an easy target.

Spirit leaped over a log, nearly unseating Link. He leaned lower in the saddle, wind rushing by as they ran. He heard the log crunch under the Guardian just behind them.

Come on, boy. Go faster. Just a bit faster!

Spirit weaved around a tree in their path, which exploded a moment later in a plume of fire. Link could feel the heat on his back. He glanced back, noting that the Guardian had fallen behind them, though they were hardly out of danger yet.

He spotted a series of rocky outcroppings nearby and angled Spirit towards them. Almost there! A shadow passed by to his right, and Link glanced up, seeing Kass flying high overhead. He was still there, even though Link had told him to fly home in a situation like this. Oh well—there was no time to worry about it now.

He looked over his shoulder, looking to where the Guardian was located now, and then turned Spirit into the rocky outcrops, zigzagging around several of the stone pillars. He heard another energy blast strike the outcrop that they’d just passed, shattering the stone. The constant back and forth slowed their progress, but it also broke the line of sight, which was far more important than speed at the moment.

He could hear the Guardian reach the outcrops behind them and glanced back, unable to see it any longer. He kept Spirit moving forward until they abruptly exited the rocky area and entered a thick wood. Link halted Spirit in the shadowy center of the forest, looking around for any sign of the Guardian.

For a moment, there was only silence. No Guardian fire, no mechanical legs tearing up earth and scrabbling over stone. And then he heard it. The sound was strange and alien to him—a series of whirs and beeps that didn’t sound at all natural. He ducked low on Spirit, eyes open and searching.

Finally, he saw it, just outside of the grove of trees, its red lights pulsing. It had paused, turning its head this way and that, shuffling on its long legs. It fixed its gaze on the trees, and he held his breath. The Guardian turned and began walking away from the trees, further north. The lights on its body seemed to dim as it did so.

He released his breath in a groan, pressing his face to Spirit’s mane. The horse was breathing heavily as well, sides heaving. He foamed around the bit in his mouth. Link dismounted and pulled Spirit’s face down, rubbing his nose comfortingly.

“You did great,” he said in a whisper. He pressed his face to Spirit’s briefly and then pulled away, keeping hold of the reins, and walking back the way he had come, leaving the trees and entering the rocky outcroppings.

Now that he wasn’t racing through, he was able to inspect the stone with a more critical eye. The rocks were far too uniform to be natural. He could see places where stone had been sheared off and gathered in large blocks.

Another quarry, just like the one in Akkala.

It made sense. Hyrule Castle would have needed an incredible amount of stone to build it, so it was only natural to build it near a quarry. The quarry seemed to be a large one too, considering how long it had taken he and Spirit to cross it. Looking at the various rocky pillars, Link wondered if this had once been a hill or small mountain.

As they slowly made their way through, a shadow crossed his path. A moment later, he felt a rush of wind as Kass landed in front of him, breathing heavily. His feathers were considerably ruffled, but he otherwise looked unharmed. Good.

Link nodded but said nothing, simply continuing on his way, drawn towards the center of the quarry. Somehow, he knew what he would find there. Kass fell in beside him, also not speaking. Perhaps after such a harrowing experience, no words needed to be said.

Finally, they found what he’d expected. In the center of the quarry, surrounded on three sides by sloped stone walls, was a glowing Sheikah Shrine. It must have once been completely buried in the rock.

Link released Spirit’s reins and moved forward, climbing the sloped walls enough to peek over their tops. The castle was far closer now, just across a thick moat, looming high above him. The quarry was just on the outskirts of the Castle Town, and from this vantage, Link could see the old city stretched out before him.

The buildings had been leveled—all of them. The city had long since died, burned to ash in the initial attacks by the Guardians. The foundations and a few broken stone walls, almost entirely covered in the dark Malice substance, were all that remained.

Except for the Guardians.

The old Castle Town was infested. He saw several of them crawling over the broken remains of his civilization, and they were joined by at least four of the flying types as well, which hovered over the bridge that led up to the castle. He even saw several broken Guardians, some missing legs or other chunks of their body, but still very much so alive, glowing with the same red light as their mobile brethren.

Link ducked his head back below the surface, sliding down the slope to rejoin Kass at the bottom. They had crossed far more north than planned in their flight from the Guardian, now well and truly in Ganon’s territory. The air even felt different here—oily and foul, like the air in the Divine Beasts. It didn’t surprise him, considering the amount of Malice that he had seen.

They exchanged a look of concern, and then Link stepped up to the shrine, pressing his Sheikah Slate onto the pedestal by its door.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty

Food sizzled in the cookpot as Link sat by it, poking at the mixture with a critical eye. Something was missing… He could tell just by looking at it. The consistency seemed right, but something about the coloring bothered him. What was it? Rabbit meat, rice, some carrots and herbs…

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Link turned and rummaged through the saddlebag that he had pulled off of Spirit’s saddle. This was rapidly becoming his cooking pack, as he kept most of his ingredients and foodstuffs in this one. He even started strapping the cookpot to it during travel—might as well keep it all together. He pulled out a small glass jar full of a red substance slightly courser than powder. Goron spices.

He unscrewed the lid and tapped some of the spice into the stew, stirring it in. Still not satisfied, he continued to tap and stir until, finally, the color seemed right. Smiling, he screwed the lid back on and stowed the spice into the saddlebag. He lifted the wooden spoon to his lips and tasted the dish. It was…

Spicy.

Coughing as the spice hit the back of his throat, he used his waterskin to wash it down, which only helped a small degree. However, for all its heat, it had an excellent taste. So that was good, at least.

Kass watched him curiously from across their small camp, his face lit by the warm fire. He was smiling. “You know,” he said, finally. “I never imagined that you would be such an accomplished cook. That wasn’t a quality ever spoken of in the songs and stories that my teacher told me.”

Link glanced up at Kass and shrugged, smiling. “I feel like it’s one of those things just beginning to come back.” He looked down at the dish. “I don’t even know what this is. Can’t remember its name.” Kass laughed and Link’s smile widened. It felt good to sit here in the warmth of the fire.

They left Central Hyrule the day prior. After the Guardian chase, Link had activated the Sheikah Shrine, traveling into its depths and completing its trials. He was growing more adept at seeing the solutions that the Sheikah intended for him to take, as well as some alternate methods to skip portions of the shrine puzzles. Or perhaps they had intended on him finding such shortcuts, having positioned things just right to allow him to make use of them. He had no idea what the designers intended.

After the shrine, they continued west, crossing the bridge into North Hyrule without being accosted by any more Guardians or monsters. No Yiga ambush awaited them on the bridge, or that evening, as they sat and lay quietly under a large overhang of rock. As the next day dawned, both of their spirits lifted considerably, and they continued on their journey.

Still making their way west, they passed through a deep canyon or gorge. The rock walls formed overhangs overhead that looked like sharp teeth, giving Link the impression that they were in the maw of some great beast. They encountered a group of monsters along the way, but Link dispatched them with relative ease. After that, the only other living things they spotted in the canyon were the occasional keese that slept in caves or crevices.

The road had forked at one point, with one branch traveling straight north and the other southwest. It had peaked Link’s interest as he looked down the north road. He knew that he had traveled on it before, yet he found that his memory refused to give up its secrets as to what the road held. Kass had offered to let them take the detour, but he decided otherwise. He could spend his whole life chasing down hidden memories, or he could continue on his mission. And, for now, they seemed to still be a step ahead of the Yiga assassins. He wanted it to stay that way.

They had finally made camp a short time after exiting the canyon. It wasn’t that late yet, but Spirit was beginning to show signs of weariness. The long trek across the field had taken its toll on them all, and they were still barely halfway to their final destination. Better to get rest while they could.

They made camp in the shadow of a large tree-like plant that rose high on a thick trunk before its top flared out in a flat-topped disk made of thick, interwoven wood and long, green needles. Link had no memory of such trees, but Kass informed him that they were called Seres dragon blood trees.

“So why are they called dragon blood trees?” Link asked after doling out a bowl of the stew to Kass and settling down on the ground to eat his own. He looked up, gazing at the canopy overhead. The sun had begun to set and, with it, the air had cooled noticeably. The climate here was cooler than it had been in the central region, despite the warmth of the late spring. He was thankful that they had decided it was safe to build a fire tonight.

“That is actually a tale that I would prefer not to tell you just yet,” Kass said, smiling. At Link’s curious expression, he continued. “You’ll know soon enough.”

Link raised one of his eyebrows, now more curious than ever. Kass was usually very forthcoming with information. He didn’t press the issue, however, trusting that Kass was being honest. Apparently, he would know soon enough.

He lifted his first spoonful of the food to his lips, tasting it. His tongue burned with its spice, but it was deliciously savory at the same time, the rice having soaked up much of the meat and vegetables flavors.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen you looking so content,” Kass observed after a few moments of silence. He had begun eating his own food and hadn’t commented on its heat.

The statement caught Link off guard, and he looked up from his dish, which he had already nearly finished.

“Forgive my observation, but it seems to me that you thrive in this sort of environment. You often seem uncomfortable when surrounded by people, but out here you are happier. Content.”

It was true enough, Link thought as he stirred the food remaining in his bowl. He didn’t relish being the center of attention. Crowds made him feel on edge. But it wasn’t that he was some kind of recluse or loner. He enjoyed having friends. He felt better when traveling with a companion.

“I don’t mind people,” he finally said. He had even enjoyed the celebrations in Goron City. They had lauded him as much as the Zora and the Sheikah had, yet he hadn’t felt nearly as uncomfortable around them as he did around the others. Their attitude towards him had been different. Even as they celebrated his actions, they had also treated him like an equal. A brother. He was as likely to be cursed at by an old Goron he had disturbed as he was to be clapped on the back by another. “I think I just don’t like being placed on a pedestal to be gawked at.”

“Hmm…” Kass nodded thoughtfully. “A difficult proposition, considering what you have set out to do.”

“That’s what people keep telling me. And I’m getting used to it.” Link sighed. “I may not like it, but it… It seems to help.”

“It gives the people hope,” Kass supplied.

Hope. Just like Impa had said. He thought to his blue Champion’s tunic, tucked away in Spirit’s saddlebags. He hadn’t worn it on his trip through Hyrule Field, and he didn’t dare wear it now. Any Yiga they passed would surely know of it.

“My friend, I know that you do not wish to be held in such high regard, and I apologize for my own role in denying that wish. But you must understand that your presence signals a shift in our world. Not just the Zora and Gorons, each of whom you’ve saved from terrible fates, but even those we met at the Wetlands stable.”

Link frowned. The day before traveling into Hyrule Field, they had met at the stable, remaining there for the night. There hadn’t been many travelers there, though Link had recognized many of the same faces that he’d seen on his first stop there. Permanent residents, it seemed.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Ahh, but of course. You only saw them after I had been playing for a time.” Kass nodded, considering. “Link, do you know why I love telling stories?”

“Because you love imparting knowledge?”

“Yes, that is true, in part, but it is not the only reason.” Kass set down his bowl and reached over, picking up his instrument case and undoing the series of latches on it. He opened the lid and lifted out his concertina, gazing down at it fondly.

“You see, I have found that music and storytelling have an incredible effect on listeners’ emotions. Their hopes and dreams. A simple key change can affect the entire outcome of a story. I can tell a story of a brave knight facing down hordes of demons, eventually falling to his death before their overwhelming numbers.” He played a long note, low and somber. “And the story can either be a tragedy—a tale of the woes of fighting the inevitable—or it can be a tale of bravery, honor, and sacrifice.” He played another note, this one fuller and stronger.

Link immediately felt a shift in his perception of the image in his mind. The first tone had projected a desperate feel—hopeless. The other gave him the sense of a single man standing tall and defiant, fighting to save the ones that he loved. The end was the same in each case, yet so different. Which had he been on that field one hundred years ago?

“The men and women of Hyrule often feel like that knight to me, barely surviving. Monsters only seem to grow stronger by the day, the Calamity rages more and more often, and now even nature itself seems to be in upheaval, thanks to the Divine Beasts. And for years, they have been like the first man, desperate and hopeless. Awaiting the inevitable doom.

“But lately, it seems to me that the residents of Hyrule are standing taller than before. No longer do they merely survive, but they want to fight back. I used to try to use my music and storytelling to accomplish such a shift in people’s hearts, though it was often only a temporary change. Now I find that I don’t have to as much.”

He looked up from his concertina, smiling warmly at Link. “You’ve brought hope back into their lives, Link. You’ve fought the very elements of nature and won with barely a scratch on you. You’ve traveled across half of the land, righting wrongs and saving lives. Yes, I have done a little to spread the tales of your victories, but I have only hastened the process.

“The land is changing for the first time in one hundred years. It feels as though…” Kass paused, considering, as he looked up towards the darkening sky. “As though spring has arrived after a long winter.”

“Huh.”

“Link?”

Link looked at Kass, tearing his eyes away from the dancing flames under the cookpot. “It’s just that… That’s what Impa wanted me to do. To give hope. That’s why she gave me the tunic and insisted that I not hide my mission.”

“She has seen much. Likely, she knows full well the power that hope can bring to a desperate people.”

“I’m… happy. That I’ve been able to help.” Link looked up. The sky had become a deep purple now. “I want to see this land free from Ganon, Kass. I want to see new towns being built. I’m tired of seeing ruins everywhere.”

“Have you spared any thought to what you will do after? After you defeat Ganon?”

He took a long time to reply. “I don’t really know. What does a wandering hero do when there is no longer any evil to fight?”

“The land shall need leaders.”

“What, like a king?” Link looked back down at him, eyes opening with alarm.

 “Not necessarily, though I have no doubt that some might whisper your name for such a role after all you’ve done and will do in the future.” The thought sent a shiver down Link’s spine. He thought of his little cottage in Hateno Village and of cooking under the stars. He could have neither of those things if he became king.

“But there are other ways to lead than from a throne. Your memories hold key information, though you might not yet remember them. We have lost much knowledge of the old world since the Calamity. Individuals such as yourself or Impa will be vital to the rebuilding effort.”

What knowledge could he bring, though? He… knew how to fight, that was true. He could teach others swordplay. From what he had been told and seen in Zora’s Domain, he had even already done so in the past. Could he be a military leader? A general in a new Hyrulean army? A Knight Captain?

Duty. That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? Even if he accomplished everything that he set out to do, he would still do his duty, no matter where that took him.

Briefly, he thought of the princess, and suddenly, he wondered what she would want to do, if he freed her. Surely, she would become queen. He thought of the memories that he had of her. Her disdain for him notwithstanding, she always seemed more comfortable when in her traveling clothes than anything formal. Would she want the throne, if offered to her after so many years?

Link felt as though he should know the answer to that question, yet he didn’t think that he knew the princess as well as he thought he had before Death Mountain. After the memory at the Spring of Power and the subsequent conversation with her, he thought that he had a good sense of who she was, but now…

People can change. Link frowned, shaking his head slightly. He was being unfair, and he knew it. There was no doubt in his mind that the memories he had begun to see since entering Death Mountain had come from before the Spring of Power. She had obviously changed. Their relationship had changed.

And yet, he couldn’t shake the look on her face when her father announced that Link would be her knight.

“Father, no.”

“I can see that I have set your mind spinning,” Kass intoned a few moments later, smiling sympathetically. “I apologize. Of course, your focus should be on the now, rather than tomorrow. I merely cannot help myself but to wonder at what the future will bring. What kind of world shall our children grow up in?”

Link shook his head, meeting the Rito’s eyes and smiling. “I’m all right. Just… doing some wondering myself, I suppose.”

He tried to push the negative thoughts from his mind and moved closer to the fire, scooping out another bowl’s worth of the dish. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Curry.” Kass looked up at him curiously. “It’s curry. Rabbit curry.”

Kass smiled broadly and lifted his bowl in a kind of toast. Link returned his smile as he sat back down, steaming bowl of curry in hand.

The next day’s travels passed by pleasantly. They passed by a location labeled as Hyrule Ridge on the Sheikah Slate. In the distance to the north, Link saw many more of the dragon blood trees, some growing dozens of feet tall with massive trunks. Black clouds had gathered over a large patch of them, sending rain and lightning down among the trees, and the storm did not appear to be in any hurry to move on.

“Thunder plateau,” Kass informed him as they walked along the road. “There is a perpetual thunder storm over it that has been there for as long as anyone can remember. I even know several stories of intrepid adventurers who have braved the storm while looking for treasure.”

It made Link think of Divine Beast Vah Ruta and its strange control over the weather. He wondered if there was any Sheikah technology somehow behind the storm but had little interest in trying to find out for himself as he watched jagged lightning fork down to strike the ground.

When they rested for the night, it was at another of the stables that he was growing familiar with throughout the land. This one had been placed right under a particularly large dragon blood tree that rose at least fifty feet in the air overhead. Like the other stables that he had encountered, this one seemed to have a small group of people that lived and worked in this area permanently. He wasn’t quite sure how they remained viable, with how few travelers he saw on the roads, but Kass assured him that they got enough business on this side of Hyrule Field.

Link hadn’t been sure about staying at the stable, considering the Yiga threat, but he hadn’t seen a way around it. Even if they moved on, whatever Yiga were at the stable would simply follow them and attack in the night. Perhaps this way, the presence of others would at least give them pause before attacking.

Still, though, Link paid for a private room, which he shared with Kass. The door could not lock, so he and Kass slept in shifts, as they had been doing throughout their journey together. Nothing happened in the night, however, and the next morning Kass roused Link early, informing him that he wished to show him something.

“What is it?” Link asked as he tightened his belt before sitting on his bunk to slide his feet into his boots.

“You will see. Trust me—you will not want to miss it!” Kass beamed at him before exiting the room.

Link looked longingly to his bed—he’d been having a good dream, though he couldn’t quite remember what it had been anymore. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now that he was up, though, he stood and walked out into the stable’s common room.

It took him a moment to find Kass, who stood by one of the curtained entrances. He stepped towards the Rito, passing by a man sitting cross-legged on the floor, a small table set out before him. He appeared to be a merchant of sorts, as he had an assortment of items on the table, each meticulously placed and organized. There was a massive backpack sitting on the floor beside him. When he saw Link looking at the table, the man grinned broadly at him. “Hello there!”

He smiled politely at the man but kept moving, walking out under the curtain that Kass held open for him. Once outside, they walked past a paddock containing a herd of goats and approached a long bridge that crossed the canyon that separated this region from the Tabantha region.

He had caught sight of the bridge the night before when they arrived, but he hadn’t noticed the large wind pumps that caught the wind and spun to face it. They stood tall on poles dozens of feet tall, their blades just barely emerging from the lip of the canyon. There were several of them spread throughout the canyon. A lazy breeze blew through the canyon, ruffling Link’s hair and causing some of the fans to turn and face the breeze, their blades spinning.

They reached the bridge, and Kass held out a feathered hand to signal for Link to stop. He did so and frowned at Kass, looking around. What were they here to see? Why had it been so imperative to get out here quickly—and so early? Most of the stable’s other residents had not yet emerged.

“Kass?”

The tall Rito shook his head, glancing down at Link. He held up one finger, and then looked back up the canyon, where it snaked to the northeast. “Just wait. Trust me.” Link fell silent, waiting as Kass did, eyes searching the canyon. What were they waiting on?

The wind picked up, catching more of the wind fans, causing them to slowly turn to face the same direction. Distantly, the first rays of sunlight emerged over the tops of the dragon blood trees. Silence fell as the insects and birds all ceased their morning songs.

The hairs on the back of Link’s neck stood on end, and he looked around. Nothing made a noise, with the exception of the wind pumps, which continued to spin with the breeze.

Abruptly, the breeze became a gale that howled down the canyon. All of the remaining fans spun, snapping into place, their blades spinning rapidly. Heavy wind chimes attached to the stable’s gutters began to chime with a deep, sonorous sound. A red glow appeared from just around a bend in the canyon.

Link took a step closer to the canyon’s edge, frowning and gazing in the direction of the glow. What…

Kass placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Not too close.”

Something long and sinuous appeared from around the bend, its body undulating as it floated on the wind. It flew through the air like an eel swam through water. It had a long, scaly snout topped with two serpentine horns and a white mane of fur behind the horns; its body was long and lithe with several pairs of short legs, pointed spines along its back, and a long tail ending with even more of the spines positioned dangerously around it.

Link gasped, eyes widening as he looked at thes enormous creature that seemed to fill the entire canyon with its presence. “Dragon…” he whispered, voice not audible over the gusting wind and tinkling of the wind chimes.

The dragon flowed down the canyon, approaching the bridge, never changing its slow, purposeful pace. It flew with supernatural grace, its body rising and falling rhythmically. As it got closer, Link could see that its horns and spines all glowed with a fiery orange light, and that it released small puffs of fire from its snout as it exhaled. The air grew noticeably warmer as the dragon approached.

“What is it?” he asked, breathless. The dragon reached the bridge and flew under it, continuing on its way down the canyon.

“Dinraal,” Kass said, watching the dragon pass with a smile. “There are three dragons that inhabit this land. Dinraal, Naydra, and Farosh.” Kass inclined his head towards the red dragon. “She inhabits the region near Death Mountain and Akkala and travels through this canyon each morning. The other dragons, who inhabit Mount Lanayru and the Faron Marshlands respectively, each follow similar patterns, though they tend to be less predictable.”

“Din,” Link said, watching as the dragon’s tail passed under the bridge and out the other side. “Nayru. Farore.”

Kass looked at him with some surprise. “Yes, that is right. I’m surprised you knew that. Most appear to have forgotten the creation legend. I only know of it because of some of the ancient texts left me by my teacher after he passed.”

He could see in his mind’s eye large stone dragon’s maw in the center of a thick jungle. Old. Ancient. Covered in moss. Its teeth worn down to smooth, round nubs from the years. The inside was shadowy, but he could just make out the upper half of the statue of the Hylia within. The Spring of Courage. Princess Zelda was within, though he could not see her from his vantage, outside of the dragon’s maw and at the bottom of a series of steps.

Din. Nayru. Farore. Each of the three springs is aligned with one of the three ancient goddesses. Princess Zelda’s voice blossomed in Link’s mind. That is what she had told him before entering the spring. I will pray at each of them in hopes of unlocking my powers.

She had been unsuccessful there, just as she had been at the Spring of Power. That just left…

“Kass, do you know where the Spring of Wisdom is?”

“Hmm… The songs speak of the three goddess springs. Courage, Wisdom, and Power. The Spring of Wisdom is said to be to the northeast, but I do not know its exact location. I would likely place it within the Lanayru region. Perhaps on the mountain?”

Link nodded slowly, trying to focus his mind on the final spring. It held significance to him, but his memories of the place refused to surface. Had they never made it to the spring? Was that, perhaps, why he could remember nothing of it? Perhaps Ganon had returned prior to their trip to that final location. Perhaps that was why Princess Zelda’s powers had not awakened until it was too late.

“Link? Have you seen another memory?”

He shook his head, but then hesitated. “Something like that. I’m still sorting through it.” He met Kass’ eyes. The dragon had rounded another bend in the canyon, disappearing from his view. “I’ll tell you about it once we get on the road.”

Kass nodded, and they turned back to the stable to gather their things. Within the hour, they had packed up their gear and set out again with Link on Spirit’s back and Kass flying overhead to ensure the path ahead was safe.

Link stared up at the cliff face before him, eyes searching out the handholds in its surface. While some places were less steep than others, there were also sections that were sheer and even slightly inverted. It would be a difficult climb alone, but with Kass’ help, it should simple enough.

Only a little over an hour had passed since they set out on the next leg of their journey before he stopped them, calling Kass down. Link’s eyes were fixed on a series of broken pillars atop the canyon wall that brought him a sense of familiarity as he looked at them. He’d been here before.

When Kass told him that there was also a Sheikah Shrine atop the cliff, it made up his mind.

“Just take this end of the rope and tie it to one of the pillars, all right?” He held one end of the rope out to Kass. He doubted the length of rope would be quite long enough to reach down to the ground, but it would be close enough.

Kass took the rope, looping it over his chest, and then glanced around. After a moment’s consideration, he began to run back the way they had come, spreading his wings and taking flight. He flew in a long arc, slowly gaining altitude until reaching the right height, landing on the ridge overhead. A minute later, the rope was flung down the side of the cliff. As expected, it did not quite reach down far enough for him to grasp from the ground.

He approached the cliff face and rubbed his hands together, considering the wall before him. Finally, taking a breath, he began to climb. His fingers found the narrow ledges and crevices, and he made quick work, climbing the twenty feet to reach the dangling rope. Once he had grasped it, the rest of the climb was much easier.

When he crested the top, Link stood up straighter and looked around, taking in the sight. The ground leveled out here, though he could see that the ground sloped down the further west it went. On the side opposite of where Link climbed, it ended with a severe drop off into the Tanagar Canyon, where the dragon had flown through earlier. Atop it was a series of large, round columns and arches, most of which remained standing, despite their great age. Other structures dotted the ground, too—the remains of whatever old buildings once stood atop this plateau.

All of the columns and buildings seemed to be pointing to and housing an ancient Sheikah Shrine that shone with orange lights on its eastern end, near where Link stood. It had once been enshrined in square of columns, but many of these had since collapsed or been worn down by the elements.

He stepped towards the shrine, stepping onto the remains of an ancient stone path. The path was made up of stone tiles with elaborate designs carved into their surfaces. When he reached the shrine and stepped up onto its base, he turned and looked around, eyes gazing over his surroundings.

“I’ve been up here before…” he said, frowning. It seemed painfully familiar to him, yet no memory was forthcoming. What had happened here?

Kass opened his mouth, but he shook his head, concentrating. What is it about this place? He turned and looked up at the Sheikah symbols on the shrine, finding them off somehow. They weren’t glowing the last time I was here, were they? That was it. The shrine had been inert, and Princess Zelda had… what? What was she doing?

He grimaced, trying again to remember—to recall what he was missing. But nothing surfaced. His memories remained as opaque as ever. After nearly a minute of silence, he finally shook his head. “Nothing.” He looked at Kass. “I’m going to complete the shrine. Maybe I’ll teleport back here later and figure it out.”

Link turned, unclipping the Sheikah Slate from his belt and approached the round pedestal, glowing with the orange Sheikah eye. He held the device out to it but stopped before touching the smooth glassy surface.

She was here. Kneeling right here. Trying to activate it. She was… angry. He gasped as memory flooded in.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

She disappeared before he woke in the morning. Link probably shouldn’t have felt as surprised as he did—this sort of thing was becoming quite the common occurrence for the princess of Hyrule and her knight. She wasn’t that far ahead of him, from what the residents at the Tabantha Stable had told him, and he had a pretty good idea of where she had gone.

They had finished their second visit to the Rito Village since his becoming her knight. Revali had sent her a letter two weeks prior complaining that his Divine Beast was not as responsive as he thought it should. His suggestion, which had been full of his typical self-absorbed arrogance, was that Princess Zelda should come at once to see that his Divine Beast was fixed.

He had expected the princess to decline, or at least explain that it would have to wait until after the trip to the Gerudo desert that they were planning had concluded. After all, she had been speaking of this trip for the last several weeks, so his assumption was that she wouldn’t want to risk postponing that. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was her desperation to get out of the castle even earlier than planned.

“I expect that you still have many preparations to conclude with, Sir Link, so I shall not require that you come with me on this trip,” she had told him one evening. “I shall allow you to finish your preparations and will, instead, travel with Purah and Robbie to Rito Village. We shall be quite safe.”

She had barely given him time to reply, instead smiling curtly and turning, her blonde hair flaring out behind her as she walked purposefully away. The next morning, seeing her expression when she found Link waiting beside her white stallion with his reddish mare made the sleepless night full of last-minute preparations nearly worth it.

Now, rather than going to Gerudo desert in two weeks, they would, instead travel to Rito Village first, attend to Revali’s inability to solve his own problems, and then go straight south to the desert from there. Link was quite proud of his ability to make the plan come together, actually. Of course, he suspected that had been Princess Zelda’s plan all along, but he said none of that to her. He had long since realized that the best thing he could do in her presence was remain silent.

The trip to Rito Village had gone well enough. Purah and Robbie hadn’t actually traveled with them all the way there—they were, instead, on the way to the Ancient Tech Lab. Link didn’t ask the princess about that, either. Once there, Link had allowed the princess and Revali to go about their business without his interference—Revali still wouldn’t help him get up to the flying machine—and together, he and Princess Zelda set off for Gerudo desert ahead of schedule.

On the way back through the wide canyon before the Tabantha bridge, she commented to herself about the ancient columns in the Rayne Highlands, looking up at the old ruins from atop her horse. He had offered that they could ride up to look at them, but she refused. That likely should have been Link’s first clue that she would disappear on him.

Link pushed his horse harder than he would normally have liked as he rounded the cliffs to where the land sloped up onto the highlands and eventually, the plateau where the ancient columns rested. While the roads were still mostly safe, despite the increased monster presence in the nation as of late, this was a considerable distance off the beaten path, which did worry him. If the princess had gone and gotten herself into trouble…

But no. As he climbed the hill and came within view of the pillars, he saw her horse standing placidly, grazing. He breathed a sigh of relief and slowed Epona’s approach. As he neared, he began to hear her quiet mumblings as she spoke to herself. She came into view.

Princess Zelda knelt beside one of the old Sheikah shrines, this one standing as inactive as all of the others that he’d seen around the land. She leaned close, having opened a small panel in the round pedestal by what she claimed was the entrance, and fiddled with something inside of it.

“There must be a way to get this to open. It is just like the Shrine of Resurrection, so why won’t these work as that did?” She closed the panel and stood up. After a moment, she hesitantly reached out with her Sheikah Slate, placing it against the pedestal. Nothing happened.

Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head, sighing. “It must be designed to wait for… something. A signal of sorts, perhaps?” She looked down at the device in her hands. “But designs can always be worked around. I should be able to figure this out.” The princess hesitated. “At least, I hope.”

Epona snorted loudly as Link brought his mount to a stop, and Princess Zelda’s shoulders stiffened. He dismounted and, when he saw her again, she faced him, cheeks growing red. He saw irritation in her eyes.

“Ahh. I see that you caught up,” she said, coolly. She gripped her Sheikah Slate before her like a shield. “I do believe that I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort every single place that I go. You were not required to follow me here. I would have preferred that you remain behind at the stable to prepare our supplies for the next leg of our journey.”

Link remained silent, not daring to speak now. Her eyes were dangerous all of a sudden, and her cheeks grew even more flushed. She stared at him, though, waiting for several seconds before blowing out an irritated breath, placing her hands on her hips, and looking away.

“It seems that I’m the only one here with a mind of my own.” That stung, though Link tried to keep his face free of emotions. It would blow over. It always did. “I, the person in question, am fine.” She looked back at him, lips pursed. “Regardless of the king’s orders.”

This wasn’t good. She was only growing angrier—and, if Link was honest with himself, he was too. He felt his cheeks beginning to flush, but he still kept his mouth clamped shut. Let it go. It’s just her temper. She’s frustrated. Her experiments didn’t work.

He didn’t understand why she was prone to snapping at him like this. He tried to be polite and honorable, as a knight should be. He tried to respect her space and privacy, so long as he was still close enough to protect her, should the need arise. He avoided interrupting her studies and experiments with questions, even when he was dying to ask one. She didn’t seem to like having him around, so he tried to be as nondescript as possible. Silent as a stone.

Link understood her plight better now than before, and he did not fault her for wishing to do things like getting away from the castle. He knew the pressure that she was under and thought that he could relate. She had not yet awoken her sealing powers, regardless of the hours of prayer each day. But what could he do? Knowing that he, the Chosen Hero, felt as incapable as she was would only worry her even further, he was sure.

The princess paused again, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she met Link’s. “Return to the castle.”

What?

She walked forward, chin held high as she brushed past him. “And tell my father that I do not need a babysitter, please.”

Link closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, and then opened them again. He began after her, walking back in the direction of the horses. After a few steps, she stopped, and he saw her ball her hands into fists. She took a breath and turned back to him, her cheeks flushed deeply now.

“Stop following me!”

Her voice echoed off the columns and walls around them, shrill and full of fury. Link stopped, eyes widening. She had gotten irritated at him before, but this…

He opened his mouth, licking his lips. “I… I can’t.”

“I gave you an order, knight.” Her voice was full of venom now—the fact that he had responded only seemed to have angered her further.

“Princess, I am your chosen—”

“Chosen? Chosen?” She laughed bitterly, taking a step towards him. “I did not choose you! Not as my knight, nor as a Champion.” She advanced closer, and he felt heat rising up the back of his neck. “No, the sword did, as did my father. But not me.”

The princess stopped only a foot from Link, looking up into his eyes with a look that he could only assume was purest loathing. She reached out, poking him in the chest.

“I never asked for you to accompany me. I never asked for you to protect me.” She paused, looking at her finger, which pressed against his blue Champion’s tunic. She pulled it away, dropping her hand back to her side, and turned away. “I don’t want you to be my knight.”

She began to walk away again, her steps less determined now. Her shoulders slumped, her fury spent. Link said nothing, for what could he say?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Anger. Hurt. Confusion. The emotions washed over Link as his mind pulled itself back to the present. He stared at the glowing orange pedestal, trembling slightly, feeling his cheeks growing flushed.

Did she truly not know? Did she even care to know? He followed her. Protected her. He had been doing nothing more than his most sacred duty, and she had spat it back at him like it was something vile. After everything that he had done, that was how she treated him?

After defeating two Divine Beasts, after being hurt in a dozen different ways, after dying for her—that was what he received from her?

No. No, that’s not right. That was before. In the past. Before all of this.

It was all too much for Link to process. He stepped back from the pedestal, clipping the Sheikah Slate back on his belt. His thoughts warred with themselves, both furious and confused. In that moment, he thought that he hated her. Maybe it would be better if he did just abandon her. Go back to her father and—

No! He shook himself, trying to focus. That’s not now. It’s not—that was over one hundred years ago!

“Link?”

She hates me. No. She hated me. Does she still now? No. Does she?

“Link, are you all right?”

He could see her face, red with anger and full of spite. He could hear her venomous tone as she spat her insults. He could feel the embarrassment and anger washing over him. He could feel the desire to snap back, to tell her just how unpleasant his life had been since being forced into service. He could. He would. He would tell her right now and—

No!

“Link!” He felt two large hands clasp both of his shoulders and shake him. The image of her shattered, replaced by the view of Kass, his expression deeply troubled. “Link, what is it? What did you see? You look…” Kass hesitated, and Link could understand why. His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails felt as though they might pierce his palm. His jaw was tightly set, and he felt far too hot in his tunic.

Link forced himself to relax his hands and push the memory aside. It was the past. It wasn’t now. Gradually, he felt his emotions come back under his control. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking again. His teeth ached from the pressure he’d exerted on them.

“I’m okay. I…” I might be going mad. It was growing more difficult to separate his memories from the current reality. The emotions he felt in them were all too real. He’d felt it before, with Daruk and Mipha, but it seemed to him that they were only getting stronger.

“I need a moment.” He pulled away from Kass, shaking his head, and unfolded his paraglider. Before the Rito could object, Link walked to the edge and leaped off, gliding down into the canyon below, to where Spirit waited.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-One

On the afternoon of the eighth day since leaving Kakariko Village, a full day and a half after the stone columns, Link and Kass finally came to the base of Rito Village. The tall spire of rock had been visible from afar for much of the day, separated from them by a large lake and a road that took them on a winding path, rather than allowing them to approach from a more direct angle. Link had suggested that Kass could fly home, if he wished. He knew that the Rito missed his wife and daughters greatly. But Kass had merely shaken his head, stating that he would have time with them soon enough. He would see Link through this leg of his journey.

Rito Village was larger than the name suggested, made up of what appeared to be hundreds of little huts built in a series of rings stacked atop each other on the way up a central rock spire. The spire was in the center of a large, round lake—Lake Totori—and was surrounded by several smaller islands that each bore their own huts and homes, all connected by a complicated series of wooden bridges and ladders. Even the walls of the deep depression that the lake was in had their own wooden abodes built against them. All around, Link could see the avian people walking and gliding between buildings, passing over the lake with each with their wings outstretched.

The sprawling city was set against a backdrop of a large, snowy mountain range on the other side of the lake. The Hebra mountains made up the entire northwest corner of Hyrule, providing an interesting counterpoint to Death Mountain, which was just as far north as these were. He wondered if the Eldin region would be just as cold as the Hebra, if it weren’t for Death Mountain’s status as an active volcano.

Interestingly, there was a small settlement of Hylians just outside of Rito Village as well, as well as a particularly large stable. By the countless tree stumps and the stacks of thick logs, Link guessed that this was a logging community. Perhaps even the primary supplier of the vast amount of wood used by the Rito in their constructions.

“Rito are not particularly good lumberjacks,” Kass explained when he saw Link looking at a cart full of logs. “Our bones are more brittle than Hylians, so using axes tends to be dangerous. For many years, we used saws, but then sometime in the past—long before the Calamity—we decided to hire Hylians to work our forests for us.”

It was fascinating to watch. The Hylians themselves seemed different than others Link had seen. The air was much colder here than it had been to the east, so many of them wore thick clothing, but much of their clothing had been adorned with feathers of various shapes and colors. Their hair tended to be cut shorter and a bit wilder. They even seemed to walk with a different gait here. More like…

“They almost look like Rito themselves,” Link said, lips pulling up into a curious smile.

“Yes, many of these men and women have spent their entire lives among us. There were, at one time, fewer Hylians living among us, but when the Calamity forced the Hylians out of the central region, some chose to go west, rather than east.”

Link glanced up at Kass, who had turned his attention on the central spire. His home. He saw longing in the Rito’s eyes.

“Kass,” Link said. “Why don’t you go home to your family? It’s getting late, so I’ll stay the night here. I don’t know if I have the energy to climb all the way up there right now, anyway.”

Kass looked at him, hesitating, clearly torn. Finally, he reached out and squeezed Link’s shoulder. “I’ll speak to the Elder as well. Let him know why you have come.”

“Great. Why don’t you come back in the morning and give me the tour? But, for now, go be with your family. They don’t know you’re coming, right? Should be a good surprise.”

Kass chuckled softly. “My daughters will likely annoy the neighbors tonight with their excitement.” Finally, he nodded. “Thank you, Link. I will see you in the morning.”

He turned away, approaching the edge of the cliff surrounding Lake Totori, spread his wings, and dove off, falling out of sight. A moment later, he soared up, flapping hard to gain altitude. He flew at a steeper angle than Link thought he’d ever seen him do so before, clearly intent on getting home as quickly as possible.

Link watched him quickly grow distant, joining the few other avian forms gliding around the city, and then turned away. He felt the memories at the edges of his mind, but he shied away from them. After what he had seen amidst the ancient columns, he felt as though he was no longer interested in seeing more of the past.

He doubted that he would have much of a choice in the matter, though. Already, he had vague impressions of riding up to this very stable alongside Princess Zelda, greeted by a contingent of Rito. No words had passed between them in that memory, and he was fairly certain that it had been the first time they approached the village after he’d been made her knight, rather than their second trip.

He set about getting settled for the night. He hired the use of the stable for several nights and was even able to get himself a private room by offering some of the uncut gemstones that he’d received from the Gorons in trade. He was fairly certain that they were worth far more than the room would have costed, but Bludo had seemed sincere in his promise to supply Link with more, should he need them.

Once situated in his room, door shut and the room’s dresser pushed in front of it to block it from unwanted entry, he sat down on the side of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. He remained like that as night fell outside. The room grew chilly as night fell. There was no fireplace, but a pile of heavy blankets sat folded on the floor next to the bed.

“Zelda?” he whispered in the dark room, eyes gazing out of the small window.

As expected, Link received no reply from the princess. Did she still see him? Does she even care? he thought, scowling. Then he shook his head, sighing. Foolish. I can’t dwell on the past like this.

He tried to banish the dark thoughts but only partially succeeded as he rose from his seat and pulled off his worn travel clothes. Using the moon’s light streaming in from the window, he found more clothing in his saddlebags and set them out to wear in the morning.

Finally, he settled himself in bed, pulling the blankets, which appeared to have been made with feather stuffing, around him. They were quite warm and helped lull him into a fitful sleep full of dreams and memories.

A commotion outside woke Link the next morning. He blinked himself awake, looking around the room with a frown. Sunlight lit the room, and Link saw figures moving around frantically just outside of his window.

He threw the blankets off of him and rose quickly, pulling on his clothes and gear. With a grunt, he shoved he dresser out of the way of the door and emerged into the common room. With some surprise, he noticed that many Hylians and even several Rito had taken up refuge in the common room, peering out from the curtained entrance with fear.

He pushed through the crowd and walked outside, looking around for the threat. Nothing surrounded the stable, but his eyes were drawn up to the sky by a long, piercing screech that shook the trees.

The awful sound came from an enormous flying machine in the skies above Rito Village. Shaped like a bird with a long, pointed beak, two outstretched wings, a tail, and two legs ending in clawed feet, Divine Beast Vah Medoh was an incredible sight to see. Link quickly removed his Sheikah Slate, activating its telescope rune to get a better view of the mechanical creature.

Red lights pulsed all over its metal and stone body, including a spiral pattern wrapped around its beak. Spinning fans—propellers, Link’s vague memories told him—had been placed on its undercarriage, somehow providing it with enough lift to remain in the air, just as the flying Guardians had.

At first, Link couldn’t quite understand why the people were panicking so much. From his perspective, it seemed that the Divine Beast was just flying overhead. Then he saw a familiar lance of blue-white energy shoot out from one of Medoh’s wingtips, seemingly firing wildly into the air. The energy blast was unmistakably the same as Guardian’s fire.

“What…” Link held his breath, searching the skies for any indication of what the Divine Beast was firing at. He found them a moment later—a pair of Rito in the sky, flying like a pair of tiny falcons in pursuit of much larger prey.

As he watched, one of the Rito banked to avoid another of the energy blasts and then twisted in the air, grabbing what appeared to be a bow. He fired something back at the Divine Beast that created a fiery explosion against the Divine Beast’s wing. It appeared to do little damage, however, and the Rito folded his wings against his body, diving to avoid another retaliatory blast.

The other Rito, this one with feathers of a darker shade, attacked by skimming overhead, dropping something that created a series of explosions along the skyward side of the wing. Link couldn’t tell if these explosions phased the Divine Beast, but it did release another ear-piercing screech, like that of an eagle.

To Link’s horror, the Divine Beast fired again, and this time, it struck the darker Rito with its lance of energy. The Rito entered a freefall, spinning limply through the air as it plunged towards the village below.

Suddenly, the other Rito, this one bearing white plumage, dove out of the air with blinding speed towards the falling Rito. He reached out with his large talons, grasping the seemingly unconscious comrade, and opened his wings, flapping hard to slow their descent. They landed hard somewhere in Rito Village, out of sight behind the rock spire.

Link turned his attention back to the sky, watching as the Divine Beast continued to fly overhead in slow circles over the village, no longer attacking. The warning was clear to Link. Kass had told him about this—it did not attack the village or its people directly, but it effectively grounded the Rito around the village whenever it was overhead.

He remained there, looking up at the mechanical beast, for a long time. Eventually, the people that huddled in the stable while the battle raged on began to filter back out. He could hear some of the Rito discussing amongst themselves in quiet tones.

“Teba should have known better…”

“—only going to make it angrier—”

“Skies above, Harth didn’t look good…”

The Rito began making their way towards the bridge leading up to Rito Village, and after a moment, Link decided to follow. He would find Kass when he got there—if anything was clear to him now, it was that he needed to deal with the Divine Beast quickly. If it began to attack the village in earnest…

He made it halfway to the bridge when he saw Kass’ tall form pushing his way across the bridge. He saw Link and made his way directly towards him. “Ahh, Link,” he said. “Good. I’m glad you’re up. I imagine that the Elder will wish to see you soon.”

Link nodded, his eyes drawing back up towards the flying Divine Beast. Where had it been when they arrived the day before? Perhaps among the mountains. Did it always fly, or did it set down at times? If not, how, exactly, was he even supposed to board it?

“I trust that you saw that spectacle?” Kass said, his voice growing somber.

“Are they all right?”

“I don’t know. From what I heard, the Elder tried to stop them from attacking it so rashly. One can only hope that they both survive.”

I can’t blame them, Link thought, frowning. They’re no different than Sidon or Bludo. Trying to keep their people safe.

They made their way across the series of bridges and into Rito Village. Link found the city to be a shock of color and noise. Despite the attack on the Divine Beast, the city bustled with Rito of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Their homes and shops were similarly fashioned with fabrics of every color imaginable. None of their buildings had doors or even walls. Instead, most of them were huts with tall, pointed ceilings held aloft by curved planks of wood. This left large gaps open to the air, many of which were covered by drapes and blinds that could be rolls up.

“You sleep on hammocks?” Link asked, pausing beside one such hut and looking in. There were several hammocks strung up around the sides of the room, with various pieces of furniture arranged underneath them. It didn’t seem that the Rito valued privacy very much.

“Did you expect we slept in nests?” Kass said, smiling wryly.

Link flushed, shaking his head. “No, just… I didn’t expect hammocks.”

They continued to climb higher into the city. The stairs that led up to the different levels were not all centrally located but, instead, were spread throughout the city, which gave Link a chance to get a feel for how the city functioned. He noticed that now there weren’t any Rito flying between the different levels or across the lake to the outer ring of towns. The atmosphere felt tenser with Medoh overhead.

By now, Link was growing familiar with that feeling. He had seen it in Zora’s Domain and Goron City as well. The furtive glances, the whispered tones. The way that the people darted from place to place, always in a hurry, never wanting to dawdle for long. The feel of a people oppressed.

He looked up. He couldn’t make out the entire Divine Beast due to the levels of the city overhead, but he caught a glimpse of its wing as it wheeled lazily through the air. It released another angry cry.

“Poppy!” He looked down to see a small, purple-feathered child rush out of one of the huts they neared. She was followed by a chorus of, “Dad!” as four other Rito children all hurried out of the hut, each a different color and size. Kass was soon surrounded by the children, looking quite pleased as he bent down, sweeping all five of them up in his wide wings.

Link took a step back to give Kass space as he greeted who he assumed to be the Rito’s children. They were followed out by a slender Rito woman with teal coloring. She smiled fondly at the children, but she wrapped her wings around her body in an anxious way. Link saw her eyes flick up towards the Divine Beast.

“Ahh!” Kass said, rising and patting his daughters’ heads. “Amali, this is whom I told you about. Link, this is my wife, Amali.”

“So I have you to thank for bringing my husband back to me,” Amali said, smiling and stepping forward, offering her wing for Link to shake.

“Oh, you’re the one that is going to fight Medoh!” one of the children suddenly said.

The tallest of the children with red coloring flapped her wing at her sister. “Dad said not to talk about that, Genli!”

Link hesitated, glancing between Kass and Amali, before looking down at the five Rito children, all of which had suddenly turned their attention on him. They had a strange mixture of fear and hope on their faces.

“That’s right. I’m here to stop Medoh was causing so many problems.”

“But you don’t even have wings. How are you even going to get up to it?” one of the other daughters asked. This was the same one that had rushed out to greet Kass first—the small purple one.

Kass chuckled and patted her head fondly. “We’ll make sure he can get up there, don’t worry.” He looked at Amali and smiled apologetically. “Amali, if you could… I fear that I must get Link to see Elder Kaneli. In light of this morning’s events, I feel it might be the best time to broach the subject with him again.”

She nodded and swept her wing back towards the house. “Girls, let’s let your father and Mr. Link go for now. You still have some school work that you need to complete before you practice singing.”

A chorus of aww’s followed this pronouncement, but a fierce look from their mother sent the girls scrambling back into the family home. Amali stepped closer to Kass, and they pressed their foreheads and beaks together in a show of affection. When she pulled away from Kass, she smiled at Link.

“It was nice to meet you, Link. I hope you will join us for supper. I was able to catch some fresh fish this morning before that thing arrived again.”

Link agreed, and he and Kass moved up to the next level of Rito Village.

It took them quite some time to finally reach the top, and Link felt winded by the time they stopped in front of their destination. The Elder’s hut was much like all of the others that Link had passed. The Elder of the Rito, it would seem, did not require a palace like a king, but made do with the same resources and means as the others did.

Inside, sitting on a wooden rocking chair, was a tall, round Rito. The Elder had a long white beard, and a pair of long, feathery eyebrows that extended out past his head. He had a small hooked beak, rather than the larger beaks that many of the other Rito had. Link wasn’t sure if there were different species among the Rito, but he thought that the Elder bore a distinct resemblance to an owl.

The Elder was speaking to another Rito. This one had white feathers running all the way down his body, with the exception of darker grey feathers at his wingtips and tail. The feathers atop his head curved up to form a spiked appearance. While most of the other Rito that Link had seen had worn simple clothing of colored fabric across their breasts and waists, this one wore worn leather armor and had a bow slung across his back. He bore the unmistakable appearance of a warrior. Link thought that he recognized him.

“—warned you of the dangers of attacking the Divine Beast, and now look at what has come of it, Teba. Harth is barely hanging onto life, and all you have accomplished is angering the beast!”

The Elder’s voice carried out of the hut to the wooden walkway that Link stood upon with Kass. He glanced up towards his companion, but Kass only shook his head, holding out one of his wings to forestall their progress in to see the Elder.

The other Rito named Teba shook his head, and Link thought that he saw his feathers expanding out some, making him look larger. He swung his wing in a cutting motion. “We’re all barely hanging onto life! We’re barely able to gather fish from the lake anymore, we can’t teach our children how to fly, and even the mountains have become off-limits now that Medoh has started attacking us there. We have to do something, Kaneli!”

“No! I will not have you bringing down its wrath on us all with your rash actions. I told you before that you were not to launch another attack on it, and you ignored me. I will not stand for it again,” the Elder said, leaning forward in his chair. He, too, had grown larger, his feathers puffing out.

Teba stared defiantly up at the Elder, his feathered fingers forming tight fists. “I’m not going to stand back and watch as we waste away. There is barely enough food to go around as it is—what will we do when the next batch of hatchlings arrive? There is already talk among the outer settlements about migrating east.” He paused as the Elder’s expression showed brief confusion.

“You’ve heard, haven’t you? The Divine Beasts to the east have stopped raging. Someone figured out a way to calm them—we can do the same.”

Kass apparently decided that was as good an entrance as he could have asked for, because he suddenly cleared his throat loudly and stepped forward into the Elder’s hut. Both Teba and Kaneli stopped their argument, turning to look at Kass in surprise. Neither of them had even noticed him and Link standing just outside.

“Elder Kaneli, Teba, I apologize for interrupting your discussion, but I believe that I have brought someone that might be able provide a valuable service with regard to the Divine Beast.” Kass turned back and outstretched his wing towards Link, who stepped into the hut beside him. “Please, let me introduce you to Link. The one responsible for saving both the Zora and Goron peoples from their respective Divine Beasts.”

The silence stretched as both of the Rito gazed at Link and Kass. Teba, especially, stared hard at Link, looking him up and down with a critical expression. Link wished he had worn something more imposing than just his Zora sword and Telma’s tunic. Maybe this had been the right time to pull out the Champion’s tunic again.

Suddenly, Teba pushed past Kass to stand in front of Link, fixing him with an even fiercer stare. “Is that true?” he asked, voice gruff. “You stopped the other Divine Beasts?”

“Yes.”

“How? What did you do? How did you get past their defenses?” Teba leaned a little closer, looming over him.

Link met Teba’s golden eyes with his own, trying to project equal confidence. “Each Divine Beast is different. But once the defenses were disabled or destroyed, I boarded it and destroyed the creature that is controlling it.”

The only reaction that Teba gave was a slight widening of his eyes. “Do they have a weakness? Something that I need to look out for on my next attack run?”

“Teba!” Elder Kaneli’s voice pierced the air, and Teba stiffened, expression growing dark. “That is enough. As I told you, you are not to attack the Divine Beast again. It’s too dangerous. If it decides to attack the village in retaliation, then we will be helpless against it.”

“Kaneli—”

“That is my final word! We will figure out a way to deal with the Divine Beast without resorting to brazen attacks.”

Teba stared at the Elder for several tense seconds, hands clenched into fists. Finally, he whirled, fixing Link again with his glare. “Come find me when you are finished here. I want to know more about how you stopped the other Divine Beasts.” He glanced up at Kass, nodding curtly, and then shoved past Link and out of the hut.

“Teba!” Kaneli called angrily, but the other Rito ignored him, storming away. He sighed, noticeably deflating some as he leaned back against his rocking chair. He looked at Kass. “Do you see what your tales of Revali have done to him, Kass? All he wants is to be like him.”

Kass frowned slightly at that but spoke patiently. “Elder, I believe that he merely wishes to protect the village.”

“And I do not?” the Elder said, tone growing fierce again. “No, he wishes to have glory. He wants to be the next great Rito Legend, just like Revali. Where Revali once rode the winds upon the back of the Divine Beast, Teba wants to be the one to tame it.”

Kass did not contradict the Elder but, instead, turned to Link and waved him closer. “Elder Kaneli, this is the man I spoke to you about last evening. I believe that he is the key to solving our difficulties with Medoh.”

“And as I told you last night, I don’t want a Hylian stranger to attack the beast any more than I want my own warriors to do so. I feel that, in time, the Divine Beast will eventually calm again and retreat to the mountains to rest, as it has done repeatedly over the last one hundred years.”

“I understand this,” Kass said. “But I do think it would be prudent to hear what he has to say. He has proven to be very effective at dealing with the Divine Beasts with no casualties incurred by the local populace. He is, after all, the Hylian Champion from before the Calamity.”

Kaneli didn’t look convinced but sighed, nodding. He looked at Link expectantly. Link cleared his throat. “From my experience, the Divine Beasts have only grown worse in the last few months. Divine Beast Vah Ruta attempted to flood all of Zora’s Domain, and Rudania tried to bring the whole of Death Mountain down on Goron City.”

The Rito waved a wing dismissively. “So far, the Divine Beast has shown no interest in our people, as long as we don’t fly with it overhead. This has made some things difficult for us, yes, but it is nothing as dire as what you are describing.”

“Regardless, I’m not just taming the Divine Beasts to save the different races. I am freeing them so that they can be used against the Calamity Ganon, as they were supposed to be one hundred years ago.”

“Ahh, yes. Kass told me about that as well. You say that you are the Hylian Champion, then?” Kaneli leaned forward, fixing Link with a curious stare. “Then perhaps you can tell me some about Revali. After all, it is said that he journeyed alongside you in your quest.”

That doesn’t sound right, Link thought. He didn’t have any memories of the Champions traveling alongside him and the princess, outside of the memory he had of their parting, right after the Calamity attacked. He hadn’t even seen Revali in that memory, either.

“I lost my memories since then and have only recently begun regaining some of them. I have to confess that I don’t remember any interactions that I had with Revali.”

Strangely, it didn’t bother Link as it once had to say that. Somewhere between his first journey into Kakariko Village and here, he had gotten used to acknowledging his lack of memories.

“I see.” Kaneli leaned back in his chair again, rubbing his feathery beard. “And, even without these memories, you presume yourself capable of taming our Divine Beast?”

“I did with Ruta and Rudania.”

“Yet, you also admitted to Teba that each Divine Beast is different. You don’t know how to tame this one yet.”

Link hesitated. “It… typically involves battling against the Divine Beast’s defense systems.”

“Yes, I heard you tell Teba that as well. You believe that you would need to fight it to gain entry and defeat whatever creature you believe is controlling it.”

Kass stepped forward, apparently sensing, as Link did, that the conversation was not going in the direction that they wanted. “Elder, I understand your desire to be prudent when dealing with the Divine Beast. But I believe that Link is right. The only way to truly remove the risk of the Divine Beast is from the inside, as he has done twice already. To do that, he will need to lead an attack on its defenses, however.”

Kaneli sighed, shaking his head. “Kass, I believed that you were more cautious than this. You cannot expect that I will allow this Hylian claiming to be the Champion long dead to lead an attack on the Divine Beast, when I have just forbidden our greatest warrior from doing so.”

Claiming to be the Champion? Link stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but Kass held out one feathered hand to him, still meeting Kaneli’s gaze.

“Elder, I assure you that he is who he says he is. I have seen sufficient proof of his identity time and again in my interactions with him. Furthermore, his identity is vouched for by several people among both the Zora and Sheikah that still live and remember him from before the Calamity. This is Link, the Hylian Champion. And he received a specific task from Princess Zelda to tame all four Divine Beasts.”

“The kingdom of Hyrule is no more,” Kaneli said, shaking his head once again. “We do not answer to their call any longer. Perhaps this is the hero of legend, but I am the leader of our people. I must do what I believe is best to keep us safe.”

The intensity of Link’s sudden rush of anger at these words surprised him. White-hot, it bubbled up from the pit of Link’s belly, threatening to spill out, lest he keep it contained. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should. He could feel his face turning red, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

Kass placed a hand on his shoulder, still looking up at the Elder. “I hope you will reconsider. I do not believe it would be wise for us to stand in the way of Link’s destiny.”

The Elder breathed out long and slow. “Perhaps you are right. But, for now, I will choose patience and caution. I will not act with brashness.”

Kass’ fingers on Link’s shoulder tightened. “Very well. Thank you for listening to our concerns.” He turned Link forcefully, and they walked out of the Elder’s hut.

Link wasn’t entirely sure if they were out of earshot when he opened his mouth to speak. “Who in Hylia’s name does he think he is?”

“Peace.” Kass held his wings out to Link, trying to shush him. But there was no quieting him. Not now. Not after what he had been through to get here.

“No. No, I didn’t come all this way just to let anything stand in my way now. I came here to stop the Divine Beast and free Revali’s spirit. I’m going to do that, Kass. And he doesn’t answer to Hyrule anymore? The princess still lives. The Kingdom of Hyrule still remains!”

Several other Rito were looking at them now, easily able to hear their conversation due to the open nature of their huts. Kass made another soothing motion with his wings.

“Link, I don’t expect that you will be stopped by him. I understand that you have a mission that must be accomplished, and I will help you in any way I can—starting by going back to try to convince the Elder after he has calmed down.”

“Kass, if the Divine Beast does start attacking the Rito, it’s going to be catastrophic. I need to get on there as soon as possible. I can’t wait for an old man to change his mind.”

“But you can surely wait a few days. Medoh has never directly attacked our village, and I do not believe that it will begin doing so. Not yet, anyway. Right now, I feel it would be better to have a plan in place. You should speak with Teba so that you can understand better what it is that you will be facing.

“You will also need a way to get up to the Divine Beast, and I believe that he will be your best option there as well. He is a very strong flier. He could carry you to it.”

Link exhaled slowly, feeling his anger from earlier ebbing away. There was logic to Kass’ words. He unclenched his hands. “All right. I’ll let you try to convince him. But if he refuses, I’m going to find my own way.”

“And I will do what I can to help you, as I said. Your mission is far too important to be stopped.”

Their eyes met. “Thanks, Kass,” Link finally said.

“You are welcome. Now, come. Have you eaten anything yet?” When Link shook his head, Kass smiled. “Then we shall ask Amali to get you something to eat. She is an excellent cook.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Actually, Sir Link,” said Princess Zelda. “I think that it would be better if I progressed alone from here. My meeting with the Rito Elder pertains to some important matters of state. It would not do for me to have someone… unneeded present.”

They stood together on the landing, just a short while before the stairs that led up to the upmost level of Rito Village. Their first trip together had been just as uncomfortable as he had feared. Indeed, in the days since their brief stop at the Ancient Tech Lab and Link’s apparent blunder, they had spoken very little to each other. She rode ahead while he remained a few paces behind. At night, he silently made camp while she performed her evening prayers, and then they ate a quiet meal before she retired for the evening.

He had never felt so uniquely uncomfortable around another person in his life—and that was truly an accomplishment all to itself. The rift between them appeared impassable.

He couldn’t be sure if she was lying about her meeting with the Rito Elder, but he suspected she was. Nothing she said prior to this moment had indicated this was anything beyond a routine visit to speak with the Elder regarding some simple matters. The primary reason for their visit had been to see the Divine Beast Vah Medoh and speak with Revali about his comfortability controlling it, but as the Rito Champion had not been present at the village when they arrived, the princess decided to get her meeting with the Elder out of the way.

He didn’t want to cause an argument by suggesting the princess was being less than truthful, however. And he would greatly prefer not to go see the village Elder and his attendants, anyway. The stares and, at times, outright hostility that he had received upon entering the village left Link feeling quite content to wait on this deserted porch.

“Well, I shall take your silence to mean you do not object.” Princess Zelda spoke with a haughty tone, and his cheeks grew warm. Before he could say anything, however, she turned and made her way up the stairs.

Sighing softly, Link turned and walked to the small rail at the edge of the porch. It hung out over the many levels of Rito Village beneath it, overlooking Lake Totori and the Hebra Mountain range further north. Like many other of these landings, the rail had two open sections on either side of the center section to allow the Rito to use them as take-off points for flight.

It was chilly here. Much colder here than in Central Hyrule, though he reflected that it would not be so long before the seasons would change. He wondered how the harvest back in Hateno Village would proceed this year. He doubted he would be able to travel back to the village in order to oversee and assist with it, as he had in the past. Not with his new duties. Not with the sword on his back.

A breeze began to blow past Link, and he resisted the urge to shiver. He should have brought his cloak. The wind continued to pick up, and after a few seconds, he frowned. The wind was… swirling around him almost like a whirlwind. It grew stronger, and he took several steps back. Suddenly, a spinning form burst up from underneath the landing, carried by the gale. The figure threw open his wings, ceasing his upward motion, and to Link’s surprise, the wind ceased immediately as well.

Revali, the Rito Champion, wore clothing that was similar, though noticeably more ostentatious than the typical clothing worn by Rito. Rather than just colored fabric stretched over his breast, he wore a thin piece of metal with swirling designs etched into it. His midsection was covered by a deep red cloth, and the skirt that he had around his waist had gold trim that matched the expertly crafted bow on his back. His Champion’s garment wrapped around his neck like a scarf, hanging down in front in just such a way as to show the stylized image of the Rito Divine Beast to anyone looking at him, somehow still immaculately placed, despite his flight.

He landed on the rail, his long talons gripping the wood with ease, as he gazed down at Link, smirking. “Impressive, I know. Very few can achieve a true mastery of the sky, yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar.”

Revali paused, fixing Link with his green eyes, waiting. Likely waiting for me to say something stupid, like after the ceremony, Link thought. He kept his mouth firmly shut.

The Rito sighed. “It is considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito. With the proper utilization of my superior skills, why, I really see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense of this Ganon creature.”

Still, Link said nothing. He stood still, watching Revali, yet trying to feign a nonchalant posture. The truth was that he did not care for the Rito Champion. He thought that Revali had his head so far up in the clouds that he couldn’t see the fields beneath him, as Link’s mother often said. He was arrogant and smug, and often built himself up by pushing others down.

Revali was, in short, an ass.

The Rito also didn’t seem to care much for Link either, considering the barely veiled insults and snide comments that he continually flung at Link during their brief time together at the castle several weeks prior.

He hopped down from the rail, folding his wings behind his back in a strangely formal matter, walking forward as if he were a military commander conducting an inspection of his soldiers. “Now then, my ability to explore the firmament is certainly of note…”

He stopped, his eyes and the muscular of his face still forming that smirk as before. He turned and placed a wing across Link’s shoulders, pulling closer. “But let’s not—pardon me for being so blunt—let’s not forget that I am the most skilled archer among all the Rito.”

He removed his wing from Link’s shoulder, and Link tried to force himself to remain relaxed. Hylia, what is his problem?

Revali’s smirk faded some, and he stepped around behind Link, slowly circling him. He continued speaking as he rounded back into view. “Yet despite these… truths, it seems that I have been tapped to merely assist you.” He held one finger out, pointing it at Link’s face.

Link took a steadying breath. Easy. Stay silent. It wouldn’t be good to get into an argument with the Rito Champion in the middle of his home. Based on what I’ve seen, I might get run out of town.

“All because you happen to have that little darkness-sealing sword strapped to your back.” Revali withdrew his hand, gazing at his blue feathers thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s just… asinine.”

Link’s fingers twitched, and his expression must have shown something of his dark thoughts, because Revali’s eyes narrowed, all traces of his earlier smugness gone.

“Unless you think you can prove me wrong?” He stepped closer, leaning down and thrusting his face forward so that his beak was mere inches from Link’s nose. Link refused to give any ground, meeting Revali’s eyes with a glare of his own.

“Maybe we should just settle this one-on-one?” His eyes remained fixed on Link’s for another moment, daring him to act. Finally, he pulled away, reaching up and stroking his long, hooked beak with a feathered hand. “But where?”

How angry would the princess be if I punched him? Would it be hard to find another Rito Champion if he quit? Or broke a wing? Both wings?

“Oh, I know! How about up there?” He spun around, thrusting a wing up to the air to point at the flying Divine Beast Vah Medoh, flying overhead with the help of its spinning propellers.

Revali turned back, eyes widening. “Oh, you must pardon me.” His smirk returned, and Link set his jaw. His teeth began to ache. “I forgot that you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own.”

Link remained resolute in his silence. He wouldn’t give Revali the satisfaction of knowing just how irritating he was. The Rito likely knew, though, based on his smug expression.

Finally, he turned his back to Link again and spread his wings. He bent his knees, wings hovering just over the wooden floor, and the whirlwind began to swirl around him as before. The sudden gale forced Link to step back as dust and debris sprayed his face.

He looked at Link over his shoulder, voice dripping with disdain, just barely audible over the wind. “Good luck sealing the darkness.” And, with a mighty flap of his wings, he rose with the whirlwind, spinning briefly before shooting out the top of the column of air and flying into the sky to reach the Divine Beast.

Link watched as the Rito departed, clenching his fist tightly by his side. Eventually, the gale died, and he was left in silence.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link blinked as awareness of his surroundings returned. He had spent the morning with Kass and his family, but he eventually expressed an interest in finding and speaking with Teba. Kass offered to escort him, but he had asked for directions, instead. Now that Kass was finally back with his family, it didn’t feel right constantly taking him away, even for a short time.

Teba, it would seem, had a home on the same level as the Rito Elder, though on the other side of the spire. As he had made the climb, passing by countless Rito, he could sense the unease that pervaded the populace. Rito adults looked up at the flying Divine Beast with despondent expressions; parents snapped at children for making too much noise; and most of the Rito avoided walking out onto the boardwalks as much as possible, choosing to stay inside of their huts. Those that did move out on the boardwalks did so in quick shuffling movements, darting from hut to hut to reach their destination.

To make matters even worse, he also sensed… anger. Division. It was subtle, and he hadn’t noticed it on his first walk up to the top of the spire with Kass, but now that he was alone and able to pay better attention, he could see it. Youthful Rito that paced, wearing various weapons and bows or gathered together in small groups to whisper. Older Rito that watched Link pass by, expressions inscrutable. The Rito city felt like it was about to pop.

It was far bleaker here than he had initially thought.

As he had neared the uppermost level of Rito Village, he paused on a landing, much like those below, though this one had a Rito emblem emblazoned upon it with white paint. Looking at it, he realized that it was the same emblem as was on his paraglider. He could remember the king telling him that it had been made of Rito fabric.

As he looked down at the landing, he was struck by an even greater familiarity with the location, and crossed over to lean against the railing, gazing out towards the distant mountains while considering the feeling. He eventually remembered why it was so familiar to him, but after seeing the memory, he wasn’t sure if he was particularly happy about it.

“I had no idea that Revali was so…” Link searched for the right word but ultimately decided to leave it at that. It didn’t feel right to disparage the dead.

But the memory left him feeling agitated. Not quite to the same degree as the recent memory with Princess Zelda had, but this memory had been prior to that one, hadn’t it? It was growing difficult for Link to keep track of the internal timeline in his mind. This one had been… just a few weeks after the Champion ceremony. After he’d saved the princess and been made her knight, but before they had ventured to Death Mountain. Before they stopped at the lighthouse in Akkala.

He wondered where the memory at the shrine took place. It had to be before the memory at the Shrine of Power, right? But try as he might, he couldn’t quite sort them out in his head. He thought that it likely did, but he had nothing that could truly reconcile the two memories together. The pages of his life remained scrambled.

He sighed heavily, leaning against the railing. Damn. He had more important things to worry about than his scrambled emotions and thoughts. There was another Divine Beast for him to defeat. Another ally to free. He wondered what the Revali would say when he saw Link.

“Who are you?” A voice behind him caused his back to stiffen, and he turned to see a youthful-looking Rito. Like many of the Rito, he stood taller than Link—really, did all of the races of Hyrule stand taller than Hylians? It didn’t help that Link, himself, was shorter than most Hylian men that he had met. The Rito’s feathers were green with a hint of blue, and a pair of braids hung down on either side of his face. His golden eyes looked at Link with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

“I’m Link.”

“What are you doing here?”

Link’s eyebrows turned down slightly as he took in the Rito’s expression and tone. “I was just looking up at the Divine Beast.”

“Usually, I’m the only one here. I think everyone else is afraid to come up this high anymore.” The Rito considered for a second before sitting down on the ground, reclining back on one wing while resting his other on his bent knee. “You one of the lumberjacks?”

“No.”

“Oh. Then… what? Are you a merchant? Traveling craftsman?”

“I’m here to try to help with your Divine Beast problem.”

“Oh… You’re that one.” The Rito, who Link thought seemed to be, at most, a young adult, looked at him curiously. Finally, he looked up at the flying automaton and grimaced. “I hate it here.”

Link remained silent, not at all sure who the Rito was—or why he was even talking to him. He should just continue up to find Teba. That was the right thing to do. Link took a step forward, intending on doing just that.

“I know my mom wants me to take over the shop one day, but I hate it here. This whole place is just… boring.”

“Boring?” Link asked, incredulous. “Aren’t you being terrorized by the Divine Beast?”

“Well… yeah. But not really terrorized… I don’t know. It usually just flies around up there. We can’t do much flying when it’s around, but…” The Rito shrugged the shoulder he wasn’t leaning against.

“It just seems like… that wouldn’t be very boring.”

“I guess. I think I’m just sick of being here. I don’t hate the idea of being a merchant. Not really. Just not here. I want to sell more than wheat and sugar. I don’t want to work in the same place I was born at.”

“Why don’t you just leave?” Link asked, growing irritated at the young Rito. Didn’t he have more important things to worry about than this?

“Where would I go? I wouldn’t want to go someplace really hot like the desert.”

“There’s several towns out east. Hylian and Sheikah towns.”

The Rito considered that for a moment before shaking his head. “And I bet they already have a bunch of regular merchants already. It’d take a lot of work to try to establish myself. No, I’m probably just going to just… spend my whole life here. Die here.”

Link sighed, shaking his head. “All right, well…” He trailed off, not knowing the youth’s name. The Rito glanced at him.

“Fyson.”

Fyson? Link hesitated, looking down at the Rito. But he shook himself a moment later. “Well, Fyson, I’ve got to go. I need to meet with someone.”

“Oh, okay. See ya.” He raised his wing, and Link walked past him, glancing back with a frown. It wasn’t his business, really, but the Rito’s selfish attitude bothered Link. With all the troubles facing his people, one would think he would care about something more substantial.

He stopped, a thought occurring to him. Oh, damn.

That’s what he had been doing, wasn’t it? Dwelling on the hurts caused by Princess Zelda and the irritations he’d felt at Revali. Meanwhile, Medoh flew overhead, slowly choking the life out of the Rito, Divine Beast Vah Naboris was in the south, and Ganon raged in the castle, threatening to break free at any time.

And all I can think about is how the princess yelled at me.

He was a fool. Selfish. Petulant. As bad as he’d been shortly after awakening, when he’d complained to Impa. Worse. I deserve another slap.

He closed his eyes, pursing his lips. The memories hurt, it was true, but he couldn’t afford to worry about that now. They were a distraction. In time, more memories would return. Perhaps he would discover how he and the princess eventually got over their animosity towards each other. Maybe he and Revali would end up best of friends.

And, if not… Well, one hundred years was a long time to hold a grudge.

Link opened his eyes and glanced back up at Medoh. That was his primary concern. Everything else could wait. He stepped forward again, feeling a renewed purpose as he began climbing the steps to the higher level.

It did not take Link long to reach Teba’s home from Revali’s landing. The higher Link climbed the spire, the fewer Rito he found milling about. The greatest concentration of homes and shops were further down the spire, true, but he also found numerous empty huts and structures on the uppermost levels. He suspected that fear of Medoh drove some of the populace down to the lower levels of the spire, if not to abandon the spire entirely. Teba remained, however, as did the Elder.

When he walked up to Teba’s hut, Link found him inside, though he looked as though he was preparing to leave, standing by the doorway with his back to Link. He was speaking to a lavender-colored female Rito, who had her wing wrapped around a child.

“Look,” Teba said, gruffly. “I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’m just going down to check on Harth.”

The female Rito’s expression showed worry. “I know, but after what happened earlier—”

“I’m not just going to stand by and let us be terrorized by that thing, Saki! Today was just a setback.”

“What about Kaneli’s orders?” the female Rito, whom Teba called Saki, said, before glancing past Teba and spotting Link. She opened her beak to speak further, but Teba spoke over her.

“If that old man thinks I’m just going to sit on my tail feathers and do nothing, then he’s a bigger fool than I thought.” Teba’s voice began to rise, anger apparent in his tone and posture. “I’m the greatest warrior that we have. I’m going to bring that thing down—or I’ll die trying.”

The child’s eyes widened, and Saki pulled him closer. “Teba!”

Teba hesitated, glancing down at the boy under Saki’s wing. “Every warrior must face the possibility of his death, Tulin. You’ll need to remember that.” He held the child’s eyes until, finally, the boy nodded, though he still looked terrified.

“Teba, this is reckless—”

“Enough.” Teba swept his wing through the air in a cutting motion, and Saki snapped her beak shut. “I’ll return shortly.”

Teba turned around before Saki could get another word in and finally noticed Link. He met Link’s eyes, his stare fierce, before grunting. “So you finally arrived. I thought you fled after speaking to Kaneli.”

Link ignored the barb, fixing his eyes on Teba’s. “I need to get aboard the Divine Beast.”

The Rito considered him for a moment before replying. “Then I guess you’d better learn how to fly.” He brushed past onto the walkway that rounded the spire.

Link sighed and spun, following Teba, who walked with a determined gait. Link found that he had to hurry to keep up, despite his longer stride. “You said that you wanted my help.”

Teba glanced at Link as he walked down the stairs. “No, I said that I wanted information. I will be the one dealing with the Divine Beast.”

“I’ve already defeated two of them.”

“Great, so you can tell me how to defeat this one.”

Link reached out, grabbing Teba’s wing to stop him. Teba yanked his wing free, fixing him with a dangerous glare. Link took a deep breath, continuing. “Look, we can help each other. You want to help your village and keep your family safe, right? I need to get aboard the Divine Beast to destroy the creature controlling it.”

Teba turned and continued down the path. Link clenched a fist and followed, passing by Fyson, who still sat on Revali’s landing and watched them pass.

“Why?” Teba asked as Link caught up to him.

“Why? The Divine Beast is being controlled. If I kill the creature inside, then it won’t be a threat to your people anymore.”

“No, if I destroy its weapons, it won’t be a threat. Even better if I bring the entire thing down. But you want to take control of it—why?”

“To defeat Ganon.”

The Rito stopped walking, fixing his gaze on Link once more. “To defeat Ganon.”

“Yes. I am freeing each of the Divine Beasts in order to use them against Ganon.”

“Who are you?” Teba’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m the Hylian Champion from one hundred years ago.” Link met his eyes.

“From one hundred years ago.”

“Yes, I was resurrected after I—”

Teba turned and continued walking. Link felt his face grow hot, and he hurried to follow.

They made their way down several levels of Rito Village, finally arriving at another occupied hut. This one was positioned next to a bridge that crossed over to another, smaller flat-topped spire that rose from the base of the main spire. What looked like a blacksmith’s forge sat atop the spire, though its fires were currently out.

Teba stepped into the hut, and Link followed, seeing a pair of Rito within. One of them was an adult male with dark grey, almost black feathers. His right wing was wrapped tightly in white fabric and held in a sling. Each of his shoulders were, likewise, covered in white bandages, and it looked to Link that many of his feathers had been charred, though it was difficult to tell with their dark coloring. The other was a Rito child, no older than Kass’ younger daughters, with bright pink feathers, who sat on the floor with a book open in her lap.

“Teba,” the dark-feathered Rito that Link assumed to be Harth said as they entered. He started to stand, but Teba waved at him to sit back down.

“How is the wing?” Teba asked, sitting down on the floor across from him.

“Broken.” Harth lifted the wing slightly, wincing. “It’s going to take me a while before I’m able to work the forges again.” Harth’s eyes fell on Link as he entered, and he gave Teba a curious look.

Teba sighed. “He’s here to help with the Divine Beast.”

Harth laughed bitterly, but his laughter gave way to coughing a moment later. The little girl looked up from her book, frowning. When Harth’s coughs subsided, he spoke again. “A little late for that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with it yet.”

Harth grunted, looking at Teba with a hard expression. He considered for a long time before nodding. “I figured.”

Both of the Rito men fell silent, and Link glanced down to see the Rito child looking at them with a worried expression. Harth noticed her a moment later and sighed. “Molli, why don’t you give us a few minutes? Go play but don’t go far. Where I can see you.”

The little girl looked uncertainly between the three men before nodding. She grabbed a doll from a shelf and hurried out of the hut onto the walkway just outside. Harth watched her go, protectively, before looking back at Teba.

“So. Going back to the Flight Range?”

Teba nodded. “I’ll go tomorrow. Can’t fly there as long as Medoh is overhead, so I’ll go on foot.”

“And your friend?”

Teba glanced back towards Link, fixing him with a hard stare. Finally, he nodded to the ground beside him, and Link sat down. “How did you defeat the other Divine Beasts? You said it’s being controlled by something?”

Link launched into an explanation of the creatures and spirits that he had encountered on the other two Divine Beasts.

“You’re telling me that the spirit of Revali is still somehow up there? And you’re going to save him by destroying whatever mythical demon that inhabits Medoh?” Teba said after Link finished.

“Yes.”

He grunted and glanced at Harth, who looked equally skeptical.

Link reached down to pull out his Sheikah Slate, opening it and navigating to the gallery rune. He found the image of him and Princess Zelda, gathered with all of the other Champions. He turned it around to show the Rito. “Proof that I am who I say I am.”

Teba raised an eyebrow, looking from the photograph to Link’s face. “You don’t look too much like the guy in that photo right now.”

Link raised a hand, feeling at the hair that covered his cheek. It hadn’t grown as fast as he would have liked, but he was sporting a beard and a shorter haircut now. “There were… complications. I had to disguise myself while traveling west.”

“Right.” Teba looked back at Harth again and, finally, sighed. “Okay, let’s say you somehow are the Hylian Champion from one hundred years ago. Skies, let’s even say that you’re right and that Revali’s spirit is up there, waiting to retake control of Medoh the moment you kill the thing inside of it. That doesn’t change the fact that the thing still tries to blast anyone that doesn’t have their feet on the ground.”

“Tell me about its defenses,” Link said. “What does it use?”

Teba and Harth launched into an explanation of the Divine Beast’s methods of defending itself. Then, together, the three of them put together a strategy for defeating it. It was a foolhardy plan, to be sure. It would leave them more exposed than either would like, and any number of things could go wrong.

But it was a plan.

Link returned to Kass’ home, only to find that the Rito wasn’t there. According to Amali, he had taken his daughters to practice singing. Curious, Link got directions from her and soon found him and his children on a viewing platform of sorts a few levels up. As he approached, he began to hear hints of music floating on the air.

Kass was there, with his concertina, rocking back and forth as he played a song for his daughters, who stood in a line before him, arranged from the tallest and eldest to the shortest and youngest. The five girls sang along with Kass’ song, each seeming to sing a slightly different part that came together to form a cheerful chorus. It was quite beautiful.

After a few moments, Kass stopped playing, considering. “Genli, why don’t you and Kotts swap parts? I want you to try singing the melody with Notts. Kotts, try the harmony. I think it will better fit your range. Cree, you sounded as though you were having trouble finding the right key.”

He played a long, sweet note on his instrument, humming with it. “Do you hear it?” He hummed again, and this time, Cree joined him, her voice wavering briefly before matching his. “Good. Keep that.”

He looked to his youngest daughter, standing at the end of the line, and opened his mouth to speak, but then he caught sight of Link. He smiled broadly and waved Link forward. “Ah, welcome. I wondered when you would return. We were just practicing our singing. I found out that my daughters haven’t been practicing nearly as regularly as I instructed in my absence…”

The youngest of Kass’ daughters stuck her tongue out at him, and he chuckled softly. He looked back to Link. “I trust you spoke with Teba?”

“Yeah, but we can talk about that later,” Link said, leaning against the railing. “Do you mind if I watch?”

“Not at all.” Kass turned back to his daughters and lifted his beak, standing straighter. They all followed his lead, and when he began playing, their voices soon joined his song. Kass, too, soon began to sing along with them in his deep baritone.

Link smiled warmly as he watched his friend sing. Kass was even more animated than usual, playing joyfully and swaying with the music. During a couple of the songs they played, his eldest daughter began to play a small handheld harp along with Kass, and another of his daughters played a small pan flute.

Rito gathered as their impromptu concert continued. Link saw Amali near the front, but he also saw Teba’s wife and their son, though Teba was nowhere to be seen. The crowd grew as the afternoon gave way to twilight, with many seated on the floor of the platform and walkways. Link looked up and saw quite a few pairs of Rito feet hanging down from the next level up as well, as more sat there and listened.

The music seemed to transform the Rito before Link’s eyes. Where, before, many of them had seemed downtrodden and hopeless, he now saw smiles on their faces. They spoke to each other eagerly, and a few even called out song requests. Kass took it all in stride, as did his daughters, who clearly enjoyed making music with their father.

Eventually, the music ended after the sun had set. Many of the crowd had returned to their homes, as had Amali with three of their daughters, leaving only Kass and his two eldest daughters. Kass set his concertina down into its case, as the crowd dispersed. Several of the Rito came forward to thank Kass for his music, but very soon the only ones left were Link, Kass, and his daughters.

 Kass embraced his daughters tightly, rubbing his cheek against the tops of their heads. “Go on. I’ll be home soon. I’m going to speak with Mister Link for a time.”

The two girls hurried off in the direction of their home, and Kass watched them go with a fond expression. When they were out of sight, he turned to Link. “It feels good to sing with them again. It is difficult to realize just how much you will miss something until it is gone.”

He approached the railing and leaned against it, looking out. Link did likewise, resting his elbows against the rough wood. “I think I know a thing or two about that,” he said. Link thought of Mipha and Daruk. How strange it was that he found that he missed their companionship. Their conversations. Their warmth.

Kass hummed softly in acknowledgement, and they fell silent for a time longer. Link eventually broke the silence. “I found out that Revali did not like me very much.”

 “A memory?”

He nodded. “The only clear memory I have of him involves him challenging me to a fight.” He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “I think I’m ready for some happier memories now.”

“They’ll come.” Kass patted him on the shoulder. “Many journeys are tumultuous when they first begin. Personalities clash, tempers flare, and even close friends learn of new sides to each other. That all passes with time.”

“I think you’re right, but it’s just…” Link sighed. “It’s not like reading a book. I experience the moment as if reliving it anew. All of the thoughts, the emotions—they’re all mine. They can be hard to shake.”

“Of course. But I am confident that they will eventually get better. My teacher indicated that, with time, you two were inseparable.”

“Revali and I?”

“You and the princess.”

Link glanced up at Kass. The Rito had a knowing look in his eye, and Link felt his cheeks flush. When did the conversation turn from Revali to Princess Zelda? He looked away again.

“They eventually get bad again.” The deaths of their friends. The fall of the kingdom. His defeat.

“Yes, but the story did not end there, did it?”

“No. It didn’t.” Link took a deep breath, standing up straighter. Kass did the same. “I’m going to be leaving with Teba in the morning. We’ll travel north to gather supplies, and then we’re going to try to launch another attack on Medoh the day after.”

“Yes, I assumed as much. I suspected Teba would not be able to sit quietly and wait.”

“I want you to stay here. With your family.”

“Ah.”

Link met the Rito’s eyes. After their journey together through Hyrule Field it felt strange to separate from him now, but it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know what the Divine Beast is going to do when we attack it. Ruta used ice spikes, and Rudania tried burying us under a mountain of molten rock—they respond more viciously to me than they usually do to others, too. So you should be here, with your family. You can get them out, if Medoh poses a threat to the village. You can warn the others, too.”

Kass watched him in silence for several seconds before speaking again. “I appreciate that, Link. I will stay. But you must give me a full accounting of the Divine Beast and whatever you find in it.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, but I want even more details this time. This is, after all, my patron Divine Beast. I am very curious about what you will find upon it.”

Link smiled, agreeing. They remained where they were for a short time before, finally, they both departed—Kass to his own house, and Link to an inn in Rito Village, where he was able to rent a hammock for the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Three

Link pulled on his new boots made from thick animal hide and then patted his belt for the thick gloves he had purchased from the Brazen Beak in Rito Village. The new clothes, much thicker than what he normally wore, would help keep him warm as they neared the Hebra Mountains, not to mention while he was aboard Medoh, which would be far colder still, assured Teba. He also pulled on the blue hood given to him by Telma, followed by his cloak. He was, perhaps, overdressed for just starting out, but not by much.

The morning had brought with it a cold wind that seemed at odds with the warm late spring days that he and Kass had enjoyed on their trek across Hyrule Field. Perhaps it was the elevation here, or just the way the wind chilled while blowing over the mountains, but it served as a clear reminder of what Link was walking into. This would be the opposite of Death Mountain, but required just as much preparation, if not more.

The two of them set out later than they had initially planned. That morning, as Link and Teba walked down towards Rito Village’s exit, they had been stopped by a group of Rito that angrily demanded Teba stop what he was doing. Though the Rito Elder had not been present, his influence certainly had been.

For a brief moment, Link worried that a fight might even break out between Teba and the gathered Rito, and he thought Teba had worried about the same, considering how tense he had seemed. Eventually, the Rito let them pass without incident, though not without warnings of doom and destruction called after them.

They almost reached the bottom level when another group of Rito appeared in the path, though these appeared to be there to cheer Teba on. Teba spent little time acknowledging them, however, and soon he and Link were on their way towards the nearby stable, where the small logging community thrived.

He had, after much deliberation in the night, decided to leave Spirit at the stable. While he thought the horse would have been fine in the cold, Link wasn’t sure if he would be able to easily return to their destination following the attack on Medoh. Teba had informed him that there were no easy provisions for horses where they were going, and he didn’t dare risk leaving Spirit out in the cold for days, while waiting for him to return. Teba would walk, and so would he.

He just hoped he wouldn’t return to find another Yiga ambush waiting for him.

Their day’s journey would take them around the northeast side of Lake Totori. There was no road, and the terrain would be difficult at times, but it was the shortest path to their destination—the Flight Range.

Much of their travel early on was in silence. Link didn’t have a problem with it at first, as it gave him time to reflect on their plan for stopping Medoh. Eventually, however, the silence began to grate on Link. He glanced over at Teba, who walked without slowing or altering his pace, eyes forward.

So stoic, Link mused. Teba was the opposite of Kass in almost every way. Where Kass had been warm and full of anecdotes and stories, Teba was cold and silent. It was… familiar to Link, somehow, but he wasn’t certain why.

He’s worried, Link thought as he observed Teba. Probably about his family. The village. Perhaps even the fate of the world. Does he understand the importance of this mission to Hyrule as a whole?

Strangely, Link didn’t find that he worried about such things as much anymore. Oh, the fear of failure still had an effect on him, but after what he had been through and accomplished thus far… He was here. He was as prepared as he could be.

“Are you going to keep staring at me all day?” Teba asked, breaking Link out of his introspection.

He looked away quickly, sighing. Silence stretched between them again for a while longer before he finally spoke. “Why aren’t there more Rito willing to fight against the Divine Beast?”

“There were,” Teba said, glancing at Link out of the corner of his eyes. “But most of them were killed when the Divine Beast first arrived.”

“How long ago was that?”

Teba grunted. “We knew the Divine Beast was around for years, but it didn’t bother flying around until several months ago.”

“And it’s been terrorizing your village ever since?”

“No.” Teba fixed Link with a more direct stare. “Kass didn’t tell you?” Link shook his head, and Teba sighed. “When it first showed up, it didn’t bother attacking unless we tried to get on board it. Most Rito were content to leave it alone.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the Elder’s right, and we did by leading attacks against it. But, regardless, eventually it started attacking Rito just for flying too close to it, and then for flying anywhere within sight of it. It’s gotten to the point now that we can’t fly anywhere, even near the ground, when it’s in the sky overhead.”

“So, it’s just been getting consistently worse?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“The other Divine Beasts were the same way. I don’t think your attacks are causing the problem. It would have gotten worse, regardless.”

“Yeah, well, yesterday, Harth was the only other Rito I could convince to attack it with me. Today, I’ve got you.”

Link ignored the implication. “If we don’t stop it, it will keep getting more aggressive.”

“I’m not going to turn back this time,” Teba said, eyes hard. “It’s flying lower than before.”

“You think it might be getting ready to attack the village?”

Teba nodded. “The Elder doesn’t believe me. He thinks we should all just shove our heads in the ground and wait for everything to blow over.”

Everything made sense to Link now. Teba’s insistence to lead another attack so soon, and the Rito’s reticence to let him. They feared that his actions would bring the Divine Beast’s wrath down on them, but Teba knew that was coming, even if he did nothing.

“We’ll stop it before that happens,” Link said.

Teba looked over at him again, considering. “You’re not like other Hylians I’ve met.”

“How so?”

“Most of them are cowards.”

Link winced. “We lost… everything one hundred years ago. Our kingdom, our land, thousands of people…” He’d just traveled through the heart of Hyrule—Link now knew firsthand just how much had been lost. None of the other races had lost even a fraction of what the Hylians lost.

“And none of them since have tried to rebuild,” Teba said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Look, I’m not trying to insult your species. I’m just saying that most of the Hylians I’ve met seem content to wait around and let someone else do the saving. The Hylians living outside of the village, for example, haven’t offered to do anything to help.  They just assumed Medoh is just Rito business.”

Fair point, Link thought. It aligned with much of what he’d seen since beginning this journey. It wasn’t laziness, or even cowardice, though. It was something closer to apathy. Many of the Hylians he’d encountered were simply living, and little more. They’d lost all hope for something better.

“And this whole mess began because your kingdom decided to start digging up these things, didn’t it?”

Link frowned. “It was to stop the Calamity. And all the races pitched in with it. The Rito had a Champion as well.”

“Because we had to play nice with the Hylians,” Teba snapped. “The king ordered it, and we obeyed. And look what good it brought us. The Calamity won anyway—and now there’s a Divine Beast flying over our heads, blasting anyone near it out of the sky.”

Link felt his face flushing with irritation. He wished he hadn’t even tried starting this conversation at this point. “How many Rito have you lost because of the Divine Beast, compared to the thousands of Hylians killed when Ganon rose again? The tens of thousands?”

Teba snorted. “I’ve heard the stories from Kass. The only reason that happened at all was because your princess couldn’t—”

“Don’t.” Link’s voice grew dangerous. Teba opened his beak again, but Link cut him off. “Do not speak ill of the princess. You don’t know what she’s done to keep you safe. What she’s still doing today.”

Teba considered Link for a time, meeting his eyes. Finally, he nodded. After a moment, he spoke again. “You’re right. Kass has told us those stories as well.”

Silence fell between them again. Link walked, looking straight ahead, confronting an uncomfortable thought. Am I much better? Considering his reaction to the memories he had most recently, he wasn’t so sure. He had an idea of the stress on Princess Zelda’s shoulders, even then. Was it any wonder that she didn’t want Link around her when facing that?

Princess, I’m so sorry.

The icy blast nearly pushed Link back, forcing him to duck his head and trudge forward. He used the walking staff that he’d made from the fallen tree branch to steady himself and keep moving forward through the thick snow. The pack on his back felt far heavier now than it had when first setting out. His legs ached with the exertion of continuing the climb higher and higher into the mountain range.

“Almost there!” Teba said, looking to look over his shoulder and ensure Link heard him. He nodded, gritting his teeth.

The temperature plummeted the closer they got to the mountains. It began to rain not long after their conversation. Icy droplets of water fell on them for a time before it transitioned to a bitterly cold snow. The forests and plains gave way to snowy foothills and, eventually, icy rocks and mountain passes.

Mountains loomed over them, their sides covered with snow and the occasional tree. The animal life had changed, too. Though Link still saw the occasional fox or rabbit, he began to see large moose populating the forested areas and large, horned animals to the southwest, where the ground leveled out again. They were unfamiliar to him, and Teba told him they were called rhinoceroses.

The cold wind didn’t seem to bother Teba much as he continued to walk through the snow. Though his tunic seemed slightly thicker than the one he’d worn when Link first met him, his legs were still bare, with the exception of dark wraps below his knees. His wings and face were, likewise, left bare.

Another icy blast blew down from the mountain, and Link winced, turning his head so that the hood of his cloak caught the brunt of it. The snow fell in thick, wet flakes that stuck to his cloak and soaked his thin beard with melting ice crystals.

The Rito-made clothing did help, at least. The boots were surprisingly warm, even after trudging through snow for hours, and the pants kept his legs feeling dry. The left glove was fingerless, however—likely for the purpose of making it easier to use a bow—so Link tucked that hand inside of his cloak.

The snow storm did not abate until the afternoon gave way to twilight, and they made their way into a mountain pass and onto a clearer path, where trees and shrubs had been cleared away. When the snow dissipated, their destination grew visible in the distance—a wall-less hut at the top of the path, next to a large depression in the ground, ringed by mountainous rock.

“There it is,” Teba said, pausing to look up at the dark hut. “The Flight Range. Revali created it over one hundred years ago to train Rito children in aerial combat.”

“I think I’ve been there before,” Link said, frowning. Now that he could see the hut in the distance, it seemed familiar to Link in the way that made him certain that he had seen it before, but the memories were still locked away.

Teba grunted, fixing him with an unreadable stare. Link met his eyes, wondering if the Rito still didn’t believe his story of being the Hylian Champion. It should have been a relief, really. His claims in Rito Village had been met with outright skepticism, unlike with the races to the east. Here, he was a nobody, for the time being.

It doesn’t matter, Link thought, pushing the irritation he felt aside. As long as I’m still able to get on the Divine Beast, I don’t need him to believe me.

Finally, Teba turned and continued up towards the hut, and he fell back into step beside him. The wind picked up as they climbed, howling through the mountain pass, and he pulled his cloak more tightly against him.

He eyed the hut as they neared it, grimacing. Like other Rito structures, it was little more than a roof over a wooden floor. There were no walls to shield them from the icy wind. It would be a miserable night, indeed.

“What do you remember about Revali?” Teba asked, suddenly.

Link looked at him in surprise. Maybe Teba wasn’t as skeptical of his claims as he thought. “Not much. Not yet, anyway. He was an excellent flier.”

“Yeah, we know that. Everyone remembers him because he was the best flier and best archer we’ve had in centuries. Maybe ever. What else do you remember, though?”

Link shrugged. “Nothing, really. I can vaguely remember being around him, but we did not interact much in the memories I have.” He decided to keep his apparent rivalry with Revali to himself, as well as Revali’s open disdain for him. That probably wouldn’t help Teba’s already tenuous opinion of him.

Teba didn’t seem pleased with his response but pressed no further, continuing his trek up towards the Flight Range. Sighing, Link followed.

Within another fifteen minutes, they arrived at the cold structure. Now that they were upon it, Link saw that the hut sat above the ground on stilts, with a tall ladder leading up to its entrance. It sat, nestled against the rock wall, with a small wooden landing stretching out over the deep depression. Once in the hut, he looked out at the Flight Range, frowning as he was struck, again, by the familiarity of the place.

The Flight Range, it turned out, was little more than a series of targets attached to the sides of the depression by way of ropes and wooden supports. The targets varied in height, size, and color. In the center of the circular depression was a tall rock spire, also adorned by several of the targets.

Link stepped out onto the small landing, surprised by the strong updraft that rose up from the bottom of the depression. The wind buffeted him from below and caused his cloak to billow around him, forcing him to draw it tightly around him. He reached the end of the landing and looked down, spotting a small body of water far below him.

He reached out, holding an open palm over the air rising, wondering what would happen if he tried to ride his paraglider here. Would it be enough that it actually lifted him into the air, or would he simply sink down slower?

He looked back at a noise from behind him. Teba had gone around to the sides of the hut, pulling down thick blinds and securing them with lengths of rope. They weren’t quite walls, but they, with the inclusion of the firepit in the center of the hut, would likely help to keep them warmer during the night. Already, the temperatures plummeted even further than they had been during the day.

Link stepped back under the shelter of the hut and walked to the side of the room, where wood had been stacked and covered from the elements. He brought several pieces over to the firepit, setting them out to get a fire started now that the wind in the hut had been cut off.

It took him several minutes to get the fire started, during which Teba closed off all of the remaining openings around the hut. However, once it began, the fire consumed the tinder and licked at the wooden logs merrily, giving off a heat that was incredibly welcoming. Link sighed and removed his cloak and gloves, warming his palms.

“You Hylians don’t do well in the cold,” Teba said as he walked over to a chest and began removing supplies from it.

“We don’t have a layer of feathers to keep us warm.”

“True.”

Teba sat down across from him, and Link saw that he had retrieved several thin, straight sticks and a pouch full of some kind of dark powder, along with some other materials. As Link watched, Teba crafted an arrow of sorts, tipped with a tightly wrapped pouch of the powder, and an arrowhead made of flint. He added some fletching at the bottom of the arrow and then gently set it to the side, before grabbing another of the arrow shafts and starting a new one.

“Are those the explosive arrows?”

Teba nodded.

“What are you putting in them?”

“Explosives.”

Right. Link sighed and continued to warm his hands. After a time, he pulled his boots off as well, setting them beside the fire to help dry them out as well. He gazed around at the hut, noticing for the first time a number of bows of different styles hung from hooks on the ceiling. He saw several simple wooden bows, as well as some of the recurve-style bows used by the Sheikah. Some of them bore interesting embellishments at either end of the bow that looked like bird wings.

One of the bows caught his eye, and Link frowned, standing. He walked across the cold wood floor and reached up, taking a very elaborate bow from its hook, and turned it over in his hand, inspecting the craftsmanship of the wood. The bow was shaped like a wide, shallow “M”, with golden wingtips at its ends. A pair of thin rods extended out its front, near the leather-wrapped handgrip. A thin, blue ribbon had been affixed to one of the wings.

“This was Revali’s bow,” Link whispered, touching the ribbon with a hesitant finger. He turned to look back at Teba, who had stopped making his arrows and watched him with a curious expression.

“It’s a replica,” Teba said. “Harth crafted it a few years ago based on a portrait of Revali that he saw.”

“It exactly like it.”

Teba gazed at him for several moments before speaking again. “Did you ever see him use it?”

Link spoke with barely a thought. “Yes.”

He had seen Revali use it. He’d seen him use a bow identical to this right here, just outside of this hut. He could remember it clearly now—and he could remember all too well the anger he’d felt.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Revali hadn’t been where he was supposed to be when he and the princess first arrived in Rito Village on their impromptu trip to answer his summons. Despite their tight schedule, and their need to continue on south to the desert, Revali did not, apparently, feel the need to wait for them at the village. Instead, he left a message for them, telling them—telling the princess—to meet him at the Flight Range, which was easily a full day and half’s ride away.

Link assumed that Princess Zelda would be angry. That she would refuse. Certainly, that’s what she would have done if he had suggested anything that would have delayed them from their mission by three days. But she didn’t. Instead, she simply took it in stride, smiling to the Rito that gave them the message, and they continued on their way.

And now that they arrived at the Flight Range, Revali still wasn’t here. It was almost enough to make Link snap. Almost.

“I’m sure he will return shortly,” Princess Zelda said, removing her thick gloves and crouching beside the fire that he had created, using some of the wood left in the hut. She wore a white winter coat with a wool scarf around her neck. Link had chosen to put on extra layers under his Champion’s tunic and wore a thick cloak that he could easily remove to get to the Master Sword underneath.

Link wasn’t nearly as certain as the princess regarding the Rito Champion’s absence. Revali had already disappointed them once—twice, considering his absence now—on this trip—what’s to say he wouldn’t do it again? But he didn’t contradict her. It felt as though he were constantly walking on thin ice with her—especially lately. Perhaps showing up the way he had, after she had suggested he not come on this trip, hadn’t been the best choice. Still, though, he had to fulfill his duties.

He turned, stepping out onto the narrow landing and looking around the Flight Range. It was made especially for Rito archers—likely made for Revali himself, now that Link thought about it. Hadn’t the village elder described it as “Revali’s Flight Range”?

An arrow shot over Link’s head, and he started, whirling and looking for the archer. Behind him, something exploded close enough that he could feel the heat upon his back and felt the shockwave.

“Princess, get down!” he cried throwing off his cloak and pulling the Master Sword from its sheathe. He needed to move, he needed—

A shadow passed overhead, almost faster than he could track with his eyes. More arrows flew through the air, but they weren’t aimed at him. Instead, they were shot towards the targets in the Flight Range, exploding upon impact. Half a dozen arrows flew through the air in the time it would have taken Link to draw a single one, each causing a small, but fiery explosion upon the targets, leaving smoldering remains in their wakes.

Revali swooped down before Link, holding his golden bow in his talons, passing out of view for a few moments before shooting back up into the air on a gust of powerful air. With a smooth motion, he flung the bow out in front of him with his legs and caught it in his wings, his momentum still carrying him upwards. He drew three arrows back, at the same time, and released them just as his upwards momentum died. Each arrow flew true, striking a different target.

Revali continued this for a time, flying around the Flight Range and shooting targets with incredible accuracy and speed. Link was ashamed to admit that he had never seen anyone so skilled at archery before. It made his own skills, which weren’t inconsequential among the Hylian knights, look paltry by comparison.

Finally, Revali flew low and flapped his wings, sending a gust of wind towards Link that forced him to grab the wooden railing, lest he fall over the edge. The Rito landed easily on the railing a few feet away. He gave Link a clear smirk and then hopped down, walking into the hut.

 “Ahh, your highness,” Revali said. “I see you finally made your way over here. I wasn’t certain if you would arrive in time before I had to return to the village. It would have been unfortunate if you traveled all the way here, only to have to turn around again.”

Link clenched a hand into a fist but said nothing, following after Revali. He thought that he saw something of Princess Zelda’s own irritation on her face, but she hid it well. She really only seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve around Link, for some reason.

“Yes, well, we arrived in Rito Village two days ago, but you were not there,” the princess said, voice calm and polite. “We arrived as quickly as we could, of course.”

“Two days?” Revali exclaimed. “Skies above, if I had known it would take you two days to get here, I would have told you and your little knight to not even bother and wait for me there.” He shook his head, but then spread his wings. “Oh well. You’re here now. That’s all that matters, hmm?”

Revali spoke to the princess as though he were her equal, if not her better. It irritated Link to no end, but he had little choice but to hold his tongue. It was just as his father had taught him—sometimes the hardest thing a guard could do was remain silent, but it was also among the most important.

“Yes, of course,” Princess Zelda said. “I am here now, and you can explain to me more of what you wish to accomplish with your Divine Beast. I understand from your letter that you wish for it to be more responsive, but I’m going to need more details than that.”

What followed was a lengthy discussion between the princess and Revali. Revali mostly made demands, and Princess Zelda repeatedly told him that such things might not be possible. In the end, she determined several areas that she would attempt to make improvements on, but as it was getting late, they would not be done until the next day.

Link found himself alone with Revali for the first time since his first trip to Rito Village when Princess Zelda climbed down the ladder to answer nature’s call before settling in for the night—she had explicitly told him not to follow, and he complied, but only after stepping outside to inspect the surrounding area first. The wind shades had been long since pulled down, and the hut had become pleasantly warm. It still smelled of lightly seasoned trout and potatoes—Link’s contribution to their meeting that night.

Revali looked at him and smirked. “Having fun traveling around with the princess?”

He clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the Rito bastard, focusing instead on spreading out his bedroll on the wooden floor. They had not brought hammocks, which was fine by Link. Tying them to the hooks hanging from the ceiling would have required him to stand on his toes, as he was just a few inches too short to be able to do so easily.

“It is strange,” Revali said, musing. “I would have thought that, by now, she would at least be willing to look at you. I suppose she still finds your presence as unnecessary as I always have.”

It was hard, right then, not to take Revali up on his earlier offer of a duel. Link did not consider himself to be a particularly violent man, regardless of his skill with the sword. He prided himself in the ways he avoided fights and brawls during his time as a page and squire, though he was happy to admit that he usually came out on top when such things were inevitable. But he might have been willing to make an exception for Revali. If Princess Zelda weren’t nearby, he likely would have.

“I suppose you’ll just always be a reminder of all of her shortcomings.”

“What?” Link stood, finally turning to face Revali.

“Oh, he does speak! I was beginning to worry—could a knight so dim of wit truly—”

“What did you mean by saying I’m a reminder of the princess’s shortcomings?”

Revali laughed. “You really don’t know? You truly are as dim-witted as I thought.” Link took a step forward, and the Rito held up his hands in a warding motion. “Oh, calm down. I have no interest in ruffling my feathers defeating you in a fight.”

“Just tell me.”

Revali watched him calmly, considering. Finally, he shrugged. “Well, isn’t it obvious? As ill-conceived as the notion of you being the one to defeat Ganon is, at least you have your little sword. The princess doesn’t even have that. She is…” He held up his hands, palms up. “Talentless.”

“Don’t call her that,” Link said, though it lacked the passion he’d felt earlier. His mind raced with this new information.

Revali snorted. “She might as well be when it comes to her duties. But she knows her way around the Divine Beasts, at least. I’ll use that to ensure that I’m as ready as I can be to face down the beast myself when you, inevitably, fall.”

Link reached out and grasped the blue Champion’s scarf around Revali’s neck, feeling his face flush with heat. He could hear his heart racing in his ears as he glared at the Rito, who looked startled by Link’s actions. He clenched his left hand into a tight fist, preparing to punch Revali right in his smug beak.

“Sir Link!”

Link released Revali immediately, stepping back, He glanced over to see Princess Zelda standing in the doorway. Had she heard? Her cheeks were red but that could have been because of the cold or embarrassment. He briefly met her eyes, but her expression was difficult to read.

He turned away from both her and Revali, walking to his bedroll and keeping his back to the other two occupants of the room. Behind him, he could hear Princess Zelda crossing the room over to her own bedroll. She made no immediate motion to climb into it, however, and he glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t facing him exactly, but he thought that she was looking at him in her peripheral vision as well. She seemed to want to say something.

He waited. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she pulled her outer coat off, rolling it to use as a pillow before climbing into her bedroll. Link sighed softly and climbed into his own. None of them said anything else that night.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Teba woke Link before dawn. The fire had reduced to embers, and Link was wrapped tightly in his cloak and Rito-made clothing. When he sat up in his hammock, he saw that Teba was already nearly ready. His bow had been set out on one of the tables in the room, and he had a thick quiver full of explosive arrows attached to his hip. Another of the specially enlarged quivers sat on one of the tables for Link.

Link carefully got out of the hammock, lowering himself to the floor. The wood floor was icy under his feet, even through his thick woolen socks, so he quickly slipped his boots on. He adjusted his clothing and cloak and began to gather his equipment.

Neither of them spoke as they worked. Link gathered much of his extra gear into his pack, setting it against one side of the room—he would have to come back here to get it later. Instead, he packed light for the coming fight. His bow and assortment of arrows spread across two quivers. Ancient sword. Shield. Paraglider. Sheikah Slate. He had a few other small items that he was able to strap to his belt, but he tried keeping his provisions as light as possible for the next part of their plan, which Link was least comfortable with. He would have to leave his cloak behind and hoped that his clothing would be enough.

He would have to fly with Teba.

“I’m going to have you get on my back,” Teba said, walking out onto the landing.

“You’ll be able to fly like that?”

Teba looked back at Link, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Why would I suggest it if I couldn’t?” He looked away. “But it will be easier than having you hang below me from my talons. Once we get up to Medoh, I’ll try to drop you off on its tail. I think we damaged the cannon there our last attack, so it should be the safest location. If not, you’re going to need to be ready with that glider of yours.”

“Right.”

“After that, I’ll try to draw as much fire as I can. Just get to work.”

Link nodded. The plan was simple enough but posed a great deal of risk to both of them. The Divine Beast had two cannons each on its tail and each wingtip—one on its topside and one underneath. Teba would act as if conducting an attack like last time, firing his arrows at the cannons and doing his best to damage them. From what he told Link, though, they were extremely well-armored. He managed to damage a single one in the last attack, but it had happened quickly enough that he wasn’t sure what did it. He hadn’t had any more luck when he attacked those on the wingtips.

So, Link would try to covertly destroy them while Teba kept them occupied. He had his own bomb arrows, as well as his Remote Bomb Rune. Between them, he hoped to find a weakness in the cannons’ armor that he could exploit. If they could take out the weapons on the Divine Beast’s topside, then that would hopefully allow them to disable the weapons on its underside much easier.

It was a foolish plan, he knew, but it was also the only way for him to get aboard the Divine Beast. He just had to hope that the creature controlling it did not attack immediately. They tended to attack when Link tried approaching the control mechanism, so he hoped to avoid going near it and delay that fight until the Divine Beast itself had been dealt with.

“Get on,” Teba said, bending his knees at the edge of the platform.

Link hesitated only for a moment before approaching and climbing onto Teba’s back, hands firmly grasping the Rito’s shoulders. Teba grunted at the additional weight but said nothing. Instead, he spread his wings and rotated them.

“Just making sure I’ve got the full range of motion,” he said a moment later. He looked back at Link and nodded. It was time to go. Wasting no more time, he stepped off of the platform.

Link resisted the urge to cry out, but just barely. The world upended itself around him as, suddenly, he was diving headfirst towards the pool of water and ice far below, the wind whipping at his hair and clothing. His hood blew back off his head. The surface of the water got closer and closer, and suddenly Link was struck with a terrifying thought.

What if Teba can’t fly with me on his back?

Teba threw his wings open, catching the wind, and suddenly they righted in the air, the force of their sudden shift driving Link’s forehead into Teba’s back, between his shoulder blades. Link forced his head back up, and his eyes widened.

Teba flew in a tight spiral around the spire in the center of the Flight Range, flapping his wings hard to gain altitude. The updraft helped propel him up, and after a few seconds, they shot up past the hut and out of the depression.

Link gasped as they rose above the land. The snowy landscape stretched beneath them, the white of the snow still visible, despite the dim predawn light. He could see the shadowy forms of moose and rhinoceroses, as well as other creatures that he hadn’t noticed before. At first, he thought they were wolves, but something about them seemed wrong. They loped on all fours, but their limbs were too long and their gait too odd to be wolves.

He tapped Teba’s shoulder and pointed. “What are those?” he asked, having to yell to be heard over the rushing wind.

Teba looked down briefly and then back up at Link. “Wolfos! They don’t usually come this far down the mountain—I’ll have to get a group of warriors to push them back after this is done.”

Link looked back down at the white-furred creatures and watched as one of them suddenly rose up on two legs and swiped a massive paw at a moose. The creature and its prey were soon lost from his view, however, as Teba banked, putting a grove of trees between them.

They continued to climb in the air, the trees and animals below growing smaller and smaller. Link wasn’t afraid of heights, but his precarious position didn’t inspire great confidence in him as the ground rushed away. Every time Teba flapped, Link felt himself rise and fall on his back. He gripped the Rito’s sides tightly with his legs, but this didn’t feel nearly as secure as he would have liked, and his exposed fingertips holding Teba’s shoulders had already grown numb.

They were suddenly bathed in light. Link squinted and looked to the east. Though the land below was still in shadow, they had risen high enough that they could see the sun peeking over the mountains to the east.

Still, they flew higher. Link kept his face low and looked around in wonder at the land around them. Below, the snow had disappeared, replaced by the darkness of grassy hilltops and green trees. He could see other birds in the air, too. A flying-V formation of geese flew not far away. An owl circled a meadow beneath them.

The sun continued to rise, gradually shining more of its light on the land. As it did so, Link looked ahead to see what had previously been little more than a dark shadow in the night sky. Divine Beast Vah Medoh loomed in the sky before them, still circling over Rito Village. It had begun to turn towards them, however, and Link heard Teba curse.

“It already noticed us!” he said. “Hang on, Link—it’s going to get rough from here on out!”

It wasn’t rough already? Link thought with resignation. He held on tighter as Teba sped up, beginning to drift back and forth to the left and right. Medoh sped in their direction, flying away from the village. Link hoped that the residents were prepared to take cover.

A lance of white light shot towards them from one of the wings, followed by another from the opposite wing. Teba easily avoided them due to their distance, but the fire continued, unabated. From their angle, the Divine Beast employed both upper and lower cannons, firing all four in a series of blasts that would only get more difficult for Teba to avoid as they approached.

They began to rise into the air as a steeper angle, forcing Link to grit his teeth and hold on for dear life. He could hear Teba grunting and breathing hard from the exertion. The gambit worked, however, as soon only the upper cannons were able to continue their barrage.

“Get ready to jump! I’ll get as low as I can, but I don’t want to sacrifice my speed!”

Link had another idea, however, and as Teba suddenly went into another dive—this time over the surface of the Divine Beast—he pulled the paraglider from its sheathe and held it under his body, breathing rapidly.

The white flashes of energy continued to shoot past them, far closer now than it had been before. Teba banked to avoid them, but he was largely relying on speed now and the sudden drop in altitude to stay ahead of the deadly blasts.

They passed over the Divine Beast’s head and wings, barely clearing a building-like structure that sat just before its tail. One of the energy blasts struck the building, causing an eruption of fire just behind them.

“Get ready!” Teba cried.

Link opened the paraglider over his head, and suddenly, he was wrenched free of Teba’s back. It hurt his shoulders and hands far more than he had been expecting, and he barely held onto the paraglider through the process. It worked as he had hoped, however, and he now glided in the air just over the Divine Beast’s flat tail, which seemed to serve as an entrance platform.

Teba looped around, looking confused, but when he saw Link, he nodded. He performed a thumbs-up gesture with one of his wings and then went into a dive, gaining more speed. He shot down, out of view, and Link was alone.

Link steered his paraglider down towards the tail. The Divine Beast was still moving underneath him, and Link worried that he would miss his window to land, if he didn’t do so quickly. As he did so, he got his first good look at one of the cannons, though this one appeared to be damaged.

It had a wide, dome-like base covered in Ancient Sheikah designs, and a cylindrical head with a pair of fins on either side. It sat at a slight angle, and Link could see where part of its base had been cracked and appeared to collapse under its weight. Likely from the previous attack on the Divine Beast by Teba and Harth.

The cannon didn’t move, and the lights on its body that he expected to be there remained inert. Regardless, he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. When Teba had mentioned cannons, his initial thought had been something closer to the cannons used by Gorons, but this was a far cry from those metal tubes. No, this is a Guardian, he thought, face grim.

It lacked legs, and its head was a different shape, but the design was unmistakable. It looked much like the flying Guardians, actually, only inverted and without the propellers. Immediately upon realizing this, he felt that same stab of panic that he’d felt when he first saw the Guardians since waking. Irrationally, he thought about turning his paraglider and letting himself glide away from the Divine Beast.

No. Link forced such cowardly thoughts away, wresting control of his mind. I can do this. I have to do this.

His feet touched down on Medoh’s surprisingly grassy surface, and he exhaled slowly. He looked back towards the broken Guardian. “They can be beat,” he said. And it had to be him. He steeled himself and turned his back on the Guardian. There were two others atop the Divine Beast that needed to be dealt with.

Before him was the entrance into the heart of the Divine Beast. The dome-like tunnel was dark, and Link could already see the Malice that coated parts of the floors and walls. Grimacing, he stepped forward, preparing to enter.

“Well, now. I’ve seen that face before,” said a voice behind him.

Link spun, though he suspected that he knew who the voice belonged to. Behind him stood the ghostly form of Revali, unchanged from the Rito he saw in his memories, with the exception of the green aura surrounding him. He even still had the same smirk played across his eyes.

“Revali.”

“Yes, man, you do not have to look so dumbfounded. Is it really such a shock to see me upon Medoh?” The spectral form stepped forward, waving his wing around, as if showing off his domain.

Link was immediately annoyed.

“I’m here to free the Divine Beast.” He paused. “And you.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I figured that you would find a way to show up eventually, but making me wait so long… It’s a bit indulgent, don’t you think?”

The fingers in Link’s left hand twitched, as if itching to lay the Rito out. His recent memories of Revali replayed in his head, adding to his sense of frustration. He tried to keep his face and voice calm, however. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I need to disable the Guardians before whatever is controlling this decides to join the fray.”

Revali tilted his head, looking at Link curiously. “You’ve changed. At first, I thought it was the plumage on your face—so patchy—but it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Distantly, Link heard the other Guardian cannons firing. Revali heard them too, frowning. “Well, come on, then.”

They turned and entered the Divine Beast. As they passed into the shadowy interior, Revali glanced over at Link, looking him up and down. “I assume you just came from my village. How are the Rito doing?”

Link looked at him, noticing a slight tightness around his eyes, despite the air of unconcern that he tried to show. “They’re flourishing better than some of the other races around Hyrule. I don’t think the Guardians came this way when they attacked—I haven’t seen any signs of their destruction like in the east.”

“Good,” Revali said, looking away from Link.

They continued on a few more feet before the air changed, as Link knew it would in the presence of Malice. Link resisted the urge to grimace as they entered a large room with multiple levels. The cavernous ceiling curved upwards, covered in Sheikah designs. He noticed several large skylights, but they had mostly been covered by the Malice, leaving everything dark and shadowy.

They entered the room at the upper level, and a stone bridge crossed the large opening below them. Parts of the bridge were covered in Malice, but it looked to he that he could sidle around it or step over the worst places. He glanced over at Revali for confirmation, and he nodded, stepping forward onto the bridge. Link followed, trying to pick up the pace. He didn’t know how much time Teba had before one of the cannons got off a lucky shot. The Rito had already expended much of his energy just carrying him.

“How long has it been, exactly?” Revali asked, not looking back.

“One hundred years.”

Revali hesitated. “How are you still alive?”

“They placed me in some kind of Sheikah machine. It brought me back.” Link decided not to mention his missing memories. He didn’t feel like giving Revali any more ammunition than was strictly necessary at the moment.

“Of course, they could only use such technology for the hero with the special sword.” Revali glanced back over his shoulder, and Link saw the bitterness in his yellow eyes. “The rest of us were just the help.”

Link remained silent, not sure how to reply to that. He had no memories of the events leading up to the other Champions’ demise. His assumption was that they had no way of retrieving the Champions’ bodies following their death, but he truly didn’t know for sure. He still didn’t even know for sure if he had actually died and been resurrected, or if he was simply healed from the brink of death.

Revali turned away again and continued. Link caught up to him, avoiding a puddle of Malice. As they crossed the bridge, Link couldn’t help but to take in the full size of the chamber they were in. Though this upper level was relatively small, providing a path to get out onto the wings, the levels below them extended deep into the underbelly of the Divine Beast. There were even what appeared to be long chambers extending to the sides as well—the interiors of Medoh’s wings.

Sheikah machinery was everywhere. Link couldn’t make sense of any of it as he gazed around the chamber. Much like the previous Divine Beasts, pipes ran along the walls, and Link saw several moving cogs interlinked with others. No waterwheels in here, though. He wondered what powered these great beasts.

And Princess Zelda was the one that Revali called upon to make adjustments? Link thought, suddenly curious. What kind of adjustments did she make? Did she work on the complex mechanisms that made up the Divine Beasts? How did she even know what to do with them?

He couldn’t dwell on such thoughts for long, however, as he soon noticed something else ahead of them that drew his attention. From one of the pools of Malice, a large black eye had formed and opened, watching Link with an orange, vertical-slit iris. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Revali, what is the creature that inhabits this place like? What should I expect?”

“Why, are you scared?” Revali asked. His demeanor shifted, returning to the unconcerned air that he so often portrayed. All hints of his previous anger were gone. “It is strong and favors ranged attacks over getting close. Hopefully you’re better at aiming with that bow of yours than you used to be.”

Link’s confidence grew as he thought of the Ancient arrows in his quiver. As long as this creature didn’t have access to something akin to Daruk’s protective barrier, as the last one had, he thought that he could destroy this one quickly. He lengthened his stride, speeding up.

Once across the bridge, Link saw what he originally hadn’t seen from the other side of the room. There was another opening here, leading out onto the tops of the wings, but Malice covered much of it in pools that somehow clung to the walls and formed a web of dark goo that stretched across the entrance. Some of the Malice had even grown more solid, forming jagged spikes and pillars. There was no way for Link to get through it without touching the stuff, which Mipha had strongly warned him against doing.

Outside, Link heard a series of explosions. He couldn’t see what was happening from this angle, but he didn’t have time to find another path through. Time to see if this works.

Link pulled out the Ancient sword from his belt and activated the shining blade. The Malice on the wall reacted immediately, rippling and shuddering in the presence of the blue energy.

“Now, what is that?” Revali asked, curious. “No Master Sword?” He inspected the Zora sword that Link still carried on his back. “No, that’s not it at all, is it? What happened to it?”

Link ignored him, stepping forward and slashing at some of the goo that stretched across the entrance. The sword cut through it easily, sending up a cloud of blackish smoke as it did so. He felt the entire Divine Beast shudder slightly under his feet as he did so. If the Blight didn’t know he was present before, it almost certainly did now. No matter. Link cut several more strands and then held the sword to the floor, watching as the Malice parted, trying to avoid being touched by the energy blade.

“We’ll talk later, Revali,” he said. He could feel his heart racing inside his chest. Just outside were a pair of Guardians. Different, perhaps, than the ones that had killed him one hundred years ago, but Guardians all the same. And he was going to destroy them.

Before Revali could say anything else, Link rushed outside into a storm of wind and fire.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Four

I’ve never been here before, Link thought as the wind whipped at his hood. He looked around the broad wings of the Divine Beast, covered in grass, moss, and more than a few pools of Malice. It was an amusing thought, in a way. Of all the significant places Link had visited since waking, this was likely the first one that truly had no familiarity to him. Revali never did let me visit Medoh…

The amusement didn’t last long, however, as he looked around. Stone pillars were set in lines on the wings, as well as what appeared to be the remains of a few old walls. Had there once been structures built on the wings of Medoh?

It didn’t matter. He could ponder their purpose later—right now, he needed to use them. He could see the Guardian cannons on the tips of each wing, their heads turning to follow the dark speck in the sky that Link knew to be Teba. He had retreated slightly, likely to make it easier to dodge the white energy that shot towards him.

Link moved quickly down the left wing, choosing to run outside of the line of pillars and old walls, rather than down the middle, fearing being blasted in the back by the cannon on the opposite wing.

Teba apparently noticed Link’s emergence from the Divine Beast, as he abruptly swooped down again, launching another bomb arrow at the Guardian. He didn’t retreat this time, either, remaining close enough to pose a constant threat.

“Huh,” Link heard Revali say nearby. “He’s pretty good. Not as good as me but, perhaps, with time…”

Teba swooped low again, firing another arrow that exploded against the Guardian’s body. It did no apparent damage, however, and the Guardian retaliated with another of its blasts that Teba narrowly dodged. Another lance of energy shot out from below the wing as well—he was low enough to be targeted by the cannons on the underside of the wings as well.

Teba avoided the second blast, only to nearly fly directly into a third blast from the Guardian on the opposite wing. He was far too close, but he didn’t retreat, swooping low over Medoh’s wing and weaving between some of the pillars. Another of the energy blasts struck the pillar, causing it to explode in a cloud of debris and rock dust.

Link picked up his pace, hoping that Teba’s proximity would keep him from being detected as he ran down the wing. Finally, reaching the last of the pillars, Link paused and peered around. Teba flew by, a white blur against the blue backdrop of the sky. The Guardian’s head, which rose up on a tall cylinder, tracked his flight and fired another beam of energy.

Link inspected the Guardian, trying to decide on the best method for taking it out. Teba had hoped that Link would be able to find a weakness in the Guardian’s armor up close, but nothing that he saw suggested a weakness. How had the last one been defeated?

The base was broken, he thought, frowning. It was one of the few definite signs of damage that he’d seen when looking at the Guardian corpse on Medoh’s tail. The base. The Guardian’s base appeared to be stone, much like the rest of its body, but it was not a flat circle all around. Instead, Link saw that the design of the base allowed for several small gaps between it and the ground beneath it. Enough for a bomb to slip through? It was worth a shot.

Link pulled out his Sheikah Slate, selecting the Remote Bomb Rune. He pressed it, causing the bomb to appear on the ground in front of him. He picked it up and glanced back out towards the Guardian.

And hesitated. This… was a Guardian. It may not have had the six legs, but it was a Guardian. It sent a shiver down his spine. Was he… ready for this?

It fired again at Teba, and Link closed his eyes. He had to be.

He waited for it to follow Teba’s flight in the opposite direction, looking completely away from Link, before he sprinted out from behind the cover of the pillar.

He reached the Guardian’s base a moment later and rolled the spherical bomb underneath the nearest gap. Link quickly backed up to the pillar again, holding his breath. The Guardian didn’t appear to see him, however, and continued tracking Teba’s flight, firing occasionally. Teba had stopped firing explosive arrows as well, appearing to focus more on defensive maneuvers than attacking.

He triggered the remote bomb. With a sharp crack and a flash of brilliant white light, the bomb exploded underneath the Guardian.

The Guardian tilted violently to the side as its base split into two. Its eye spun around in a circle, seeking its newest attacker, but it was too late. The lights on its body flickered wildly before growing dim. Its eye settled upon Link, standing beside the pillar, before it, too, dimmed and died.

He felt a savage thrill of excitement at finally destroying one of the machines, but he knew that he couldn’t dwell on it long. There was another Guardian topside that needed to be dealt with, and quickly.

He turned, running back the way he came. He had to reach the other one before it could be alerted to a second attacker. If he moved quickly, he could—

The ground beneath him shifted. Tilted. Suddenly, Link was running uphill.

“Link, watch out!” Revali said.

Link understood not a moment too soon as the ground beneath him tilted further, the angle of his climb growing steeper. Too steep. His feet began to slip. Eyes widening, Link dove for one of the pillars, throwing his arms around it. He found grooves in the pillar that his fingers were able to grip, but it was far too wide for him to wrap his arms all the way around.

Medoh continued to tilt until it flew nearly completely sideways in the air. The wind had picked up considerably as well as he hung by the pillar, his feet desperately kicking at the surface of the wing, trying to find purchase.

Link saw Revali hovering nearby. All traces of smugness had been erased from his expression. He looked fearful. Link understood the feeling all too well.

Medoh shuddered again, and suddenly, one of the pillars near him exploded with Guardian fire. Cursing, Link ducked his head as debris rained down on him. He was stuck, and the second Guardian, it would seem, was quite aware of his presence now.

Another of the pillars exploded. Link was protected by the pillars that stood between him and the other Guardian, but that would change quickly. He desperately glanced around, looking for anything he could use, but he was stuck. He couldn’t reach any of the other pillars to climb, and there were no openings in the ground that he could see that would allow him to retreat inside the Divine Beast.

With a rush of air, Teba suddenly swooped by, landing on the pillar. He reached down to grasp Link’s hand, pulling him up onto the pillar. His eyes widened briefly as they fell on the floating spirit of Revali, but he didn’t let himself be distracted for long. Instead, he turned, exposing his back to Link. “Get on!”

Link didn’t need to be told twice and grasped Teba’s shoulders as the Rito spread his wings and took off again. Behind them, the Guardian fired again, destroying another pillar, but he didn’t look back to see how close this one had been. Teba flew away from the Divine Beast, weaving in the air to dodge any oncoming Guardian fire.

“Good job, Link,” he said. A lance of white energy flew past them, and Teba changed directions, beginning to fly in a wide loop that would angle them back towards the Divine Beast. When Link saw it again, he was surprised to see that the Divine Beast had begun to level out again. They were also much lower to the ground now—while flying on its side, it had lost quite a bit of altitude.

“You ready?” Teba asked, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’m going to fly straight at it and get you close. I’ll slow down as much as I can to drop you off, but it’s going to be a hard landing.”

Link nodded, and Teba smiled, though his eyes showed weariness. He didn’t look as though he could continue much longer.

With a burst of speed, he angled straight for the opposing Guardian. Link held onto his shoulders tightly, keeping his head low, as Teba began to weave back and forth. A lance of energy passed them, far closer than Link would have liked, but Teba didn’t flinch.

As they neared the other side, Teba swung to the right, dodging around a broken wall, and flapped his wings to the front, greatly slowing his momentum. Link took that to be his cue and slid off of Teba’s back, dropping the five feet to the ground, landing and tucking into a roll. Overhead, the Rito took off again, flapping quickly to gain speed.

The ground beneath him shuddered again, beginning to tilt in the direction of the Guardian turret. Gritting his teeth, Link readied his bomb and ran out from behind the pillar. He reached the Guardian quickly and rolled the bomb under its base, as he had the last one, but he watched with horror as the tilting wing caused the bomb to continue rolling, right out the other side of the base and off the side of the wing.

Before he could trigger it and ready another bomb, the Guardian turned its eye on Link. The ground under his feet continued to tilt, and he was suddenly certain that he wouldn’t be able to reach cover in time to escape the Guardian’s blast.

Only one thing to do then, he thought, grimacing. Hopefully Teba’s close.

Still holding the Sheikah Slate with one hand, Link grasped his Ancient sword with the other and ran forward, using the wing’s angle to run up onto the Guardian’s base. He plunged his sword into its eye, watching with satisfaction as the red lights on its body began to flash violently. Suspecting what would come next, Link ripped his sword free and kicked off the Guardian.

Suddenly airborne, Link found himself looking down at Rito Village from above. He wondered if the Rito below were watching the ensuing battle. Were they hiding in their huts? Had they evacuated?

Something slammed hard into Link’s back, and he felt searing pain in his shoulders. He looked to the side, seeing a pair of Rito feet gripping his shoulders. Teba’s talons pierced his tunic, as well as the flesh of his shoulders.

“I’ve got you!” Teba said from above him, voice strained. He began flapping hard, but Link could tell this too much for him. Above them both, the Guardian that Link stabbed exploded in a burst of white light, and Medoh began to level out again, likely to bring the Guardians on its underside to bear.

Link stowed his sword on his belt with difficulty and lifted his Sheikah Slate. As the nearest Guardian came into view, he pressed his finger on the Stasis Rune, which bathed it in yellow light. The stasis only lasted a few seconds, but when it began to move again, the Guardian seemed confused. Its eye spun around, looking for them. When it finally found them again, it was too late. They flew over the edge of the wing and out of sight of the Guardian.

Teba dropped Link to the ground and landed a few feet away, stumbling and reaching up to a pillar to steady himself. His chest heaved as he worked to catch his breath. Link slowly stepped forward, rotating his shoulders to try to work out the pain he felt in each of them. Teba’s talons didn’t seem to have done much damage, at least.

For the moment, nothing else moved. The Guardians below had stopped firing, having lost sight of their targets, and all topside Guardians had been destroyed. There was no sound outside of the rushing wind.

“Impressive moves back there,” Revali said, suddenly appearing next to Link. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for your friend there, though.”

Teba looked up and around, eyes falling on Revali. His eyes widened. “You’re—”

“Quiet,” Link said, thrusting a hand out to silence both of them. His eyes watched control console. Malice trickled out of the Divine Beast, reaching towards the console like many jagged fingers. The Blight had come.

“Teba, stay back,” Link said, stepping forward. He removed his bow and pulled one of the Ancient arrows from its quiver. He would try to end the fight quickly. Fire an arrow into it the moment it appeared, before it could raise its defenses. With any luck, it would be over before it even began.

The fingers of Malice stopped in front of the control console and rose into the air. There were dozens of them, all rising parallel to each other briefly before angling to join together with some of the others. Eventually, all of the lines joined and formed a growing sphere.

“So how many of these things have you faced?” Revali asked.

“Two.”

“Two? You mean you saved me for third?”

Link glanced back towards Revali, and suddenly, he felt… amused by the Rito’s outrage. They weren’t friends. Not that Link could remember, anyway. But whatever had been between them was over one hundred years ago. Much too long to hold a grudge, indeed.

He smiled. “You’re lucky I didn’t save you last.”

Oddly, Revali inclined his head with a smile of his own. An understanding, then. Perhaps not friends, but they could be allies.

Link turned back to face the creature growing from the mass of Malice. It had begun to take shape, elongating and developing the limbs that would become its arms, torso, and head. Its left arm formed first—long and slender with a clawed hand, just like the previous creatures that Link faced. Its other arm grew thicker and developed Sheikah armor in place of a hand. At the end of the armor, which was cylindrical in shape, there were three pulsating blue orbs like Guardian eyes.

Its head developed with a flat plate in the front, just like the others, though this one was much more rounded than previously. The glowing blue eye appeared a moment later, with yellow Sheikah constellation designs spreading out from it. Like the previous ones, this creature also had a mane of red hair, though its hair spiked out in all directions. It had no legs, but more Sheikah armor covered its lower torso.

One thing that set this one apart from the others that Link had seen, however, was the addition of spike-like protrusions that stuck out from the creature’s back. They were each clearly Sheikah in look and design, but Link couldn’t tell if they were merely there for show, or if they were some other kind of weapon.

Revali said that it fights from long range, he thought. It will use that thing on its arm to fire Guardian blasts at me. It was a daunting thought, but one that he felt better prepared for. Oddly, he had been more anxious to face the Guardians than this creature. But perhaps that fear had been misplaced as well.

Link stared up at the foul being and drew an Ancient arrow to his cheek, aiming and launching it. The creature remained where it floated, seemingly unconcerned with the arrow. Right before the arrow struck, a gust of wind caught it, sending it off course, arcing over the creature’s shoulder.

He swore and knelt, aiming again. Still, the creature didn’t move, simply watching. He was down to two Ancient arrows remaining, so he had to make this one count. He launched another arrow at the creature. This time, the creature used its clawed hand to make an upward motion. A column of swirling air burst up from the ground in front of it, catching the arrow and causing it to spin wildly off course, striking one of the pillars and exploding in a flash of blue light.

“No!” Revali cried, stepping up beside Link. “It’s using my Gale!”

So that was it, then. The creatures had somehow stolen the Champions’ powers, along with their lives. The last one had somehow acquired Daruk’s shield, while this one had Revali’s power over the winds. The only one that hadn’t apparently taken any powers had been the first. He had no time to think about that, however, as the creature raised its arm, aiming the trio of blue Guardian eyes at him.

He darted to the side, just barely avoiding the blasts that it sent his way. They were smaller and less explosive than Guardian blasts, but dangerous enough in their own right. As he ran, the creature continued firing at him until heducked behind one of the pillars.

“Link!” Teba said, peeking out from one of the other pillars. “We’ll do it just like before. I’ll get in the air and see if I can draw some of its fire.” Link nodded and glanced around his pillar, noticing that the creature had begun floating to the side, circling so as to get a clear shot at him.

Setting his jaw, Link circled around his pillar slowly, pulling another arrow from his quiver—an explosive arrow this time. He only had a single Ancient arrow left and couldn’t risk it yet. After a brief three-count, he spun from around the pillar and shot the arrow towards the creature. Again, it protected itself with wind, sending the arrow off course, but Link followed it up with another arrow, adjusted for the wind. This one struck home, exploding against the creature’s chest in a plume of fire.

The creature threw its head back, releasing a blood-curdling screech. It waved its hand forward, creating a swirling column of air that grew before it and then began moving across the ground towards him. As the twister approached, the wind around Link picked up, quickly growing violent and filling the air with a sustained roar of sound.

He turned and ran. As he did so, he heard the creature fire its cannon again and something struck his back with a force of a hammer blow, sending him sprawling onto his belly. His bow skittered away across the ground, coming to rest dangerously close to the edge of the wing.

So close? Link thought, slightly dazed by the blow. Was he already so close to the edge of the wing? The roaring sound filled his ears and he felt a strong wind pulling him back towards the twister. Pay attention!

He threw himself to his feet and continued running, hearing the creature fire several more times, though none hit. The wind, meanwhile, had grown deafening. He reached a wall and reached out, grasping it, just in time for the twister to reach him. It easily broke his tenuous grip on the wall, flinging him through the air. His back slammed into a stone column. Link cried out, falling to the ground in a heap.

“Get up!” A voice. Teba? No, Revali. Standing right next to him. “Get up, damn it!”

Link groaned, rolling onto his stomach. A shadow passed overhead. The creature, floating just above him, out of reach of his sword. He shoved himself to his feet and reached down to the pouch at his waist, pulling out the lizalfo boomerang that he picked up on Death Mountain.

Whirling, Link threw it right at the creature. It did not strike it in the eye, as he had hoped, but it spun past its right shoulder, leaving a deep gash that sprayed purple mist. The creature screeched in apparent pain, and its next series of blasts went wild, striking harmlessly around him.

Again, he ran, reaching back and wrenching his shield free of his back. He slid his arm into it, grasping the handle firmly in his right hand. As he heard the telltale sound of the creature’s weapon about to fire again, he spun, holding the shield before him. Three blasts, each following the other, struck the shield. His feet slid back several inches under the force of the blows, but the attacks themselves were deflected, ricocheting off in other directions.

The creature seemed even more enraged and fired several more times, each one striking the shield and bouncing off. Then, just as it prepared to summon another twister, an explosive arrow flew through the air and exploded against its back. It flew forward, hitting the ground in front of Link in a heap. Overhead, Teba swooped by, yelling something indistinct to Link in the rushing wind.

Yes! Link thought, quickly reaching to his belt and pulling the Ancient sword from its spot. He activated the sword and lunged forward. The creature moved at the last second, and the sword plunged deeply into the black armor surrounding its eye, but did not pierce the eye itself.

The creature roared, reaching out and grasping Link by the front of his tunic with its clawed hand. It rose into the air, and he kicked ineffectually as he was lifted from the ground. The creature, its face armor leaking Malice, both in liquid and gaseous form, held Link far enough away to prevent him from stabbing towards his eye again.

Another arrow exploded against the creature’s back, but it was ready this time. Though it shook with the impact, it was not flung to the ground as it had been last time. Instead, it spun, aiming its cannon at Teba as he swooped by. The Rito flapped desperately, but it was too late. The cannon fired, and Teba was struck by a blast that knocked him out of the air and out of sight, over the edge of the wing.

“Teba!” Link cried. He brought his sword down on the creature’s arm. It made a pained screech and released him. He rolled as he hit the ground and came back up, thrusting his sword up, directly into the Sheikah armor that covered the creature’s bottom half. His sword pierced easily, and the creature screeched again, rising higher into the air.

Some of the Malice that sprayed out of the wound got onto Link’s hand and clothing. Immediately, he felt a searing sensation on his exposed fingers and smoke rose from the sleeve of his shirt. He passed the sword from his left hand to his right and shook the hand that had been coated, trying to rid himself of the substance.

The creature rose high in the air above him now, looking down at him. Though he could see no expression, its posture indicated clear menace. The wind around them began to pick up, and Link felt the Divine Beast begin to rock. Whether it was because of wind or if the creature had begun to control Medoh again, he didn’t know. Either way, his footing became much less solid.

Suddenly, the tops of the spikes on the creature’s back—four in all—shot out into the air, glowing with the light of Sheikah technology. Like four diamonds, they began to twist in a circle above the creature’s head, trailing phantom light behind them. One by one, they opened like flowers blooming, splitting apart and revealing their brightly-lit innards.

What is that? Link thought, backing away slowly. A new weapon. Something he didn’t know how to react to.

“Link!” Revali’s voice behind him. He spun and saw that Revali had somehow retrieved his fallen bow. He seemed fainter now—anytime the spirits interacted with the living world, it clearly took a lot out of them. His eyes were determined, however.

Link grabbed up the bow, slinging it back over his shoulder. After a hesitant moment, he stowed the sword, as well, but kept the shield firmly attached to his arm.

Overhead, the creature aimed its cannon again, but not at Link. No, this time, it aimed it right at one of the floating spikes. It fired several times into it, and Link watched with awe as the bolts of energy were reflected into the other spikes. The energy began to bounce between them, growing faster and brighter. The bolts split. Multiplied. And then they began to rain down towards Link from four different directions at once.

Link swore and ran, keeping his shield up. The first volley struck the shield, nearly sending him to the ground. Another struck next to him while yet another struck the pillar in front of him, just over his head. There was a randomness to the fire, but there were so many of them that avoiding them was like running through a rain storm while attempting to stay dry.

One of the blasts struck him in the side, and he cried out, flung to the side. Before he even hit the ground, another slammed into his back, changing the direction of his fall again. He slammed into the ground face first. He tasted blood in his mouth.

But he was alive. And, damn it, he was angry.

Link threw himself to his feet, reaching up and wiping the blood from his nose and lips. His side and back both ached, as did his hand, where the Malice coated earlier. He looked up at the flying creature, already raising its cannon towards the flying spikes again, preparing another volley.

Enough.

Link replaced the shield with his bow. The creature fired, and he watched as the blasts of energy ricocheted off the flying devices, multiplying as they did so. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the moment.

They began to rain down towards him.

Link held his breath, focusing.

Time slowed.

It did slow. There was no question in his mind as he focused, watching the dozen or so bolts of white energy as they approached him at a crawl. He could see each trajectory. Where each would land.

Link sidestepped and raised the bow, taking aim with an explosive arrow. He released the arrow and his breath at the same time.

The bolts of energy crashed down all around him, slamming into the pillars and ground with a great deal of force, yet none struck him. The creature was not so lucky. Though it did not fly as true as Link would have liked due to the gale-force winds around them, the creature clearly hadn’t expected a counterattack as soon.

The arrow struck the creature’s left shoulder and exploded. The arm bearing the clawed hand fell to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of Malice.

The creature shrieked in anger and pain, but Link ignored it, nocking another of the arrows. The wind around him had died down almost immediately once the creature’s arm had been severed. Perhaps the power was contained in that hand, or perhaps its concentration had been broken. Either way, the time to act was now.

Link launched another arrow, this one exploding against the creature’s exposed chest. It flew back some ten feet before righting itself, aiming its weapon at Link, ignoring the flying devices around its head. It launched another of the trio of blasts at Link, but he held his breath, focusing his mind as they came.

Just like before, they slowed in their flight. He side-stepped and aimed again, releasing his breath. As the blasts crashed down where he had just been standing, his arrow exploded in a plume of fire against the creature’s face. Its mask cracked. Shattered.

Beneath it was a gruesome visage. A single, blue eye surrounded by shifting Malice. A mouth with jagged teeth and a too-long tongue. Red hair that grew in odd patches and places. It was a creature of nightmares.

Link shot its eye with his last Ancient arrow.

The creature froze in mid-scream, remaining arm thrown out to the side, as the arrow’s blue tip sank into the eye and released its energy. White shafts of energy briefly flared out from the creature’s head, and then it was gone.

Link looked away as the creature began to break apart like the others. He could hear the creature’s cannon fall to the ground behind him, but he chose not to watch. He had seen enough things that would haunt him in the night.

His eyes fell on the ghostly form of Revali, who watched the creature’s death with an expression of shock that soon became satisfaction.

Teba.

Link ran to the nearest edge of the wing, looking down with wide eyes. He saw nothing except the ground, far below. Nothing flew that he could see. Had Teba been able to recover from his fall?

The image of Teba lying broken on the ground caused Link’s heart to clench. Would he have to tell Teba’s wife of her husband’s heroic death this day? He desperately hoped not.

Feeling sick in the pit of his stomach, Link turned just in time to see the creature, now little more than a cloud of dark mist, carried away by the wind. The air around them at once seemed fresher. Crisper. The sun felt warmer. Even the wind, ever present at this height, felt less oppressive.

He couldn’t worry about Teba right now. Link hoped that he had made it down to the ground safely, but he could do little to help him now. He walked towards Revali, who stood where Link had left him, wings at his sides.

“It’s gone,” he said, softly.

Link stepped up beside him, slinging his bow. “It is.”

Revali looked at him, hesitating. Finally, he said, “I was wrong about you.”

“Maybe.”

Revali remained silent for several seconds. “Well?”

Link glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “No, I was right about you, all along. You really were an ass.”

A look of confusion passed over Revali’s face briefly, but when Link smiled, he did too. Finally, he laughed. “Well, I’ll be plucked—I never took you to be so… flippant.”

Link shrugged. He still hadn’t informed Revali of his memory loss, and he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not. Did it truly matter?

“I suppose one hundred years is a long time,” Link said.

“Indeed.”

A memory flashed through Link’s mind, so quick, yet clear as though he had just been there. The moment before the end, before Revali had flown off to retrieve his Divine Beast. The last moment he had seen Revali alive.

“Don’t rush in there without me. You probably don’t stand a chance if I’m not there to back you up.”

The words had been as arrogant as always, yet his expression… There had been worry there. Revali cared. Perhaps not about Link’s safety, or even Princess Zelda’s. But he cared about their mission. Their people. Their nation.

“Revali, thanks.”

Revali looked at him. Finally, he nodded. Perhaps he understood what Link felt. “I have one question for you, though. It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you since the moment I saw you.”

“What’s that?”

“Your height.” Revali frowned deeply as he looked at Link. “Is it possible that you have actually grown shorter since I last saw you? And that hair. Please do not tell me that you lopped it all off with your sword! And did you glue it onto your face? That would explain the patches.”

Perhaps not.

Link enjoyed the feeling of cool air lightly blowing around him as he made his way down to the upper levels of Rito Village. Overhead, Divine Beast Vah Medoh sat perched upon the peak of the spire, its mechanical talons wrapped around an overhang that seemed as though it could have been made especially for that purpose. Its wings were outstretched, and its beak was pointed in the direction of the distant Hyrule Castle.

The Rito were clearly in a state of confusion and panic when he gently touched down. Many had taken flight at Medoh’s approach, while others hurried along the walkways, ushering children or the elderly along. They likely thought that Medoh was about to attack the city, as their Chieftain had warned might be a possibility.

Revali probably planned it that way, Link thought, glaring up towards the Divine Beast. No, Revali had not changed much in the last one hundred years. Their remaining time together had been little more than posturing and insults, but Link found that he didn’t mind as much as he had in the past. Maybe he understood Revali better now. The pride. The jealousy. The desire for greatness. If their roles had been reversed, perhaps he would have felt those same emotions.

“Link!”

The voice made him spin around. Relief flooded him as he saw Teba, leaning heavily against his wife, walking towards him, along with their young child next to him. Teba’s entire left side looked scorched, but his wing appeared in good condition. He had been able to fly down, then, but the injury had likely prevented him from flying back up.

“Medoh, is it—”

“It’s over,” Link said. “The creature that was controlling it is dead. Revali’s spirit controls it now. Everyone is safe.”

Teba’s eyes widened. “Skies above, you did it. You actually did it. We need to tell Kaneli—everybody is panicking, but if we—” Saki placed a hand on his chest, and Teba paused, looking at her. Finally, he nodded.

“Link, if you wouldn’t mind, could you help my husband back to our home? I will go speak with Elder Kaneli,” Saki said. Link quickly moved forward, allowing her to drape Teba’s wing around Link’s shoulders. “Thank you. Tulin, you stay with your father. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

Saki hurried off to go inform the Elder, and Link turned, supporting Teba as they made their way back the short distance to their hut.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be there until the end,” Teba said when she was gone. “Getting hit like that took a lot out of me, and I lost my bow in the process. I wouldn’t have been any use to you, even if I had been able to fly back.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help. You saved me more than once up there.”

Teba grunted but seemed to accept it. After a few more steps, he spoke again. “So that was really Revali up there. He… wasn’t what I expected.”

“Heroes rarely are,” Link said.

“Hmm. And, if I understand things correctly, that thing up there is the thing that killed Revali all those years ago?”

“Right.”

“Then I owe you an apology.” Teba looked down at Link, meeting his eyes. “I used to think that Hylians weren’t really good for anything but labor. Cutting down trees and constructing our homes. I’ve known few Hylian warriors, and even fewer that I would entrust my life to.

“The only reason I even agreed to let you come with me was because of your knowledge of the Divine Beasts and Kass’ word. I didn’t expect you to be any help up there.”

Link found himself smiling. “It’s not such a different reaction than I’ve received anywhere else I’ve been. The Gorons laughed when I told them I was going to solve their Divine Beast problem, and the Zora threatened to kill me. Why should the Rito be any different?”

“The fact that you persevered speaks much about you. Why have you continued, in spite of the adversity?”

“Why did you keep attacking Medoh, even when you were told not to?”

“To keep my people safe. To keep my family safe.”

Link nodded slowly. “It’s not so different for me. I don’t remember a lot of it, but I come from a time when we all used to be united. I don’t know if we’ll ever return to that—not really. But I’ll still try to protect the people of this land however I can. I’ll give my life, if I must.” He paused, considering. “And I have family that I need to save too.” He thought of Mipha, Daruk, Revali, and Urbosa. He thought of Princess Zelda.

“Then I was an idiot. I was ready to stand in your way if you didn’t have anything to offer me.”

Link smiled faintly and shrugged. “At least you didn’t make me slaughter a lynel to prove my worth.”

“What?”

“You’ll have to ask Kass about that one. He was there, and he would probably be angry at me for telling the story. Would probably claim I told it wrong.”

Teba fell silent after that, though Link could tell that he had more questions. That was fine, and he would be happy to answer them eventually. For now, however, he was exhausted. His months of travel and life-threatening adventures weighed on him far heavier now than they had before he and Teba flew up to face Medoh. He wanted to rest, even if for only a short time.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was the first time the four Champions had been gathered together again since the ceremony. It felt to Link that a lifetime had passed since then. He’d learned much about himself in that time, as well as his charge.

King Rhoam had been the one to invite the Champions to the castle for the beginning of summer festivities. Publicly, it had been to celebrate the continued success of the mounting defense against Ganon’s return. Each of the Champions had control of their Divine Beasts, and more Guardians were being exhumed daily. The Sheikah had been making breakthroughs in their control of the Guardians as well. Pretty soon, there was even talk that they would have them up and moving around, fully under control.

Link knew the truth, though. How could be not? Princess Zelda’s attempts to unlock her sealing powers continued to fail. She was desperate, as was the king. Even the people had begun to whisper of her inability to fulfill her role.

“Her mother would have been able to do it,” the servants whispered, when they didn’t know Link was near. “If only fates hadn’t been so cruel.”

So, the king called for a celebration. A false celebration, perhaps, but the people didn’t need to know it. As far as they were concerned, should Calamity Ganon return, it would be met by the combined might of Hyrule.

The evening’s events had taken much out of them, Princess Zelda especially. She had gone up to her quarters as night fell, followed soon by Mipha, who usually preferred to be an early riser. Link had been tempted to follow Princess Zelda to check on her guards—after the Gerudo Desert, he saw shadows in every corner—but Urbosa suggested against doing so.

“Give her some space.” Urbosa squeezed his arm, smiling knowingly. “She’ll be all right.”

So, the four of them—Link, Urbosa, Daruk, and Revali—found themselves sitting together in castle courtyard. Daruk had procured a cask of ale from somewhere, and together, they drank.

In truth, Link didn’t dislike their presence—besides, perhaps, Revali’s—but being here, with them, felt strange. He still wasn’t sure how he fit in with this group. All had risen to prominence prior to being chosen to pilot their respective Divine Beasts, and most of them were leaders among their people. Urbosa was the Gerudo Chieftain, Mipha the Zora princess. Daruk was not the “boss” among Gorons, but he was highly respected and a leader among their warriors. Even Revali, for all his preening, was considered to be a hero among the Rito. Link was none of those things.

No, in fact, he had been little more than a nobody. Son of a royal knight, true, and heir to their meager holding. But his family was not considered an important noble family in Hylian high society. At least, they hadn’t been before he drew the sword from the stone.

How did he fit in with princesses and rulers, generals and heroes?

“So, what’s next for you and the princess?” Daruk asked, bringing him back out of his thoughts. The Goron looked at him over his mug of ale—he was almost positive that he’d seen Daruk adding some dirt to it—and smiling.

Link hesitated, and Urbosa spoke up. “I asked her about that earlier. I understand that the two of you will be embarking on another journey in the coming months.”

He nodded. “She plans to visit Death Mountain again before we do, to figure out why Rudania’s head won’t close, but the priests think that we should travel to a few ceremonial springs so she can pray there.”

All three of the others were looking at him expectantly now. Link sighed inwardly, but he had been trying to speak up more.

“They’re important somehow. Tied to the three goddesses of creation.”

Urbosa chuckled slightly. She was lounging upon a number of pillows—Link had no idea where she had gotten those, either. She lifted her own mug to her lips. “Legends say that the reincarnation of the goddess once walked the land of Hyrule, visiting each of the springs in order to pray for Hylia’s blessing before facing an evil demon that ruled the land.”

Link had heard the legends from Princess Zelda herself. The very first Zelda, from before there was even a kingdom or royalty, and the very first hero of legend—wielder of the Master Sword—whose name had been lost to time.

“So… what?” Revali said. Link looked up at him, frowning. “You’re telling me that going around to each of these things is supposed to somehow awaken her powers?”

“Well, yes,” Link said.

“That just sounds foolish.”

“Revali,” Urbosa said, exasperated.

“Isn’t it? She either has the power, or she doesn’t. The idea that some fabled quest is supposed to solve everything is something out of children’s tales.”

“Yes, much like ancient evil beings and magical swords. This is all out of a storybook. Quite literally, in fact. But it doesn’t change the reality of the situation, either.”

Revali and Urbosa began to bicker back and forth while Daruk watched, smiling. Meanwhile, Link found himself wondering if Revali was right. Certainly, Princess Zelda hoped that this would work, yet it had an air of desperation to it. Was she going about it the wrong way? Perhaps the powers had nothing to do with prayers and rituals. Certainly, there had been no ritual when he drew the Master Sword.

Revali groaned dramatically, shaking his head. “I’m just saying that if her abilities are going to surface, they’ll do so when she’s ready. I don’t see how praying at a few mystical springs will help that.”

“And maybe you’re right. But I expect that she will not rest until they do.” Urbosa glanced towards Link, giving him a meaningful look.

And I’ll keep her safe throughout it all, he thought, nodding to himself.

Urbosa smirked and tipped him a wink, as if she could read his thoughts. His cheeks grew warm. He wished she wouldn’t do that.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link opened his eyes to the early dawn light, gazing up at the wooden rafters of the Swallow’s Roost inn.

What brought on that memory? he thought as he sat up in his hammock, pulling down his blankets and exposing himself to the cool morning air. He thought of sitting with his former companions, and of the awkwardness he felt in their presence. Why was I so unwilling to speak to them of my feelings? What held me back?

The idea that he was less of a Champion than any of them seemed foolish to him now. In fact, the idea that any of this was anything less than his destiny seemed foolish. Princess Zelda had been right to send him on this mission. To free the Divine Beasts felt right to him now.

A shadow passed by the open wall to his left, and he looked around to see a Rito form diving down to plunge into the lake below. Gathering fish, he supposed. Other Rito were in the air as well. Flying between the main village and the outlying towns, visiting family and friends, or perhaps just stretching their wings after being unable to do so safely for so long.

Link smiled. It felt right, indeed, to save these people. He turned and looked to the east, in the direction of the castle. Though he couldn’t see it from his vantage, he could feel it out there. Waiting for him. She waited for him.

His smile faded. It was time to get moving again. He carefully made his way off of the hammock—he’d fallen out of it more than once during his short stay at Rito Village following his victory upon Medoh.

In that time, he had been treated well by the Rito, but he couldn’t help but to notice that Teba was praised far more than he had been. The stories made Teba out to be the true hero, responsible for freeing Medoh. A new Revali.

Rito pride, it would seem, was alive and well, even one hundred years after the first Rito Champion perished. Link was more than willing to let Teba have it, though. Let them gawk at him, he thought. Teba seemed to hate it, too—which made it even more fine to Link.

Elder Kaneli seemed to understand Link’s true role in defeating the creature that had inhabited Medoh, however, and named him a friend to the Rito. He welcomed Link to stay in their village as long as needed. Even better, Link had been able to convince him to provide aid in other ways. Link’s trip through Hyrule Field taught him just how bad it was in the central country. Kaneli agreed, with some insistence by Kass, to begin sending out patrols to harass the bands of bokoblins and moblins that roamed the land.

With the Zora to the east securing the waterways and the Rito to the west attacking from the sky, Link hoped that central Hyrule would soon become safer for travelers. The Guardians near the castle were still a concern, but those would hopefully fall with Ganon. And Ganon would fall. He was more confident in that than ever. His battles against the pieces of Ganon had been difficult, for sure, but victory was attainable. Perhaps even without the Master Sword.

He had been able to accomplish other things while at Rito Village. Fyson, the young Rito that Link met, was on the way across Hyrule Field to see if he would be able to establish a new merchant business in Tarry Town. Link’s suggestion had been, perhaps, presumptuous and a little silly. He hadn’t expected Fyson to even agree, but the Rito latched onto the idea joyously, leaving town two days later. Link supposed the worst that could happen would be that he had to fly back to Rito Village in the near future.

Link also had the chance to listen to the opening verses of the song that Kass had been working on since Zora’s Domain. Hearing Kass sing of his victory with Sidon upon Ploymus Mountain had been strange, to say the least, but enjoyable all the same. At least he could remember those events. At least, most of them. He was fairly certain that some of what Kass sang about hadn’t actually happened, but who was he to instruct the master storyteller in his craft?

He dressed himself in his blue Champion’s tunic and trousers, pinning the new cloak he’d received from the Rito over it. Though his old cloak and other possessions had been retrieved from the Flight Range by a couple of Rito, the new one was of much higher quality than the previous one. The cloak was made of a special fabric that they promised to be warm, even in the coldest environments, but also impervious to rain. It was heavier than his old cloak but was not so much bulkier as to slow him down. Emblazoned upon its back was the Rito crest—matching the one on his paraglider.

As he exited the inn, several of the Rito on the walkway waved to him before approaching the nearby landing, spreading their wings and flying off. Link turned and made his way up, rather than down, soon arriving at the hut belonging to Kass and his family.

Several of the children rushed out to greet him, and he smiled, patting their heads while inwardly reciting their names. He thought that he got them all right this time, but didn’t dare say them out loud, lest he get one wrong. The last time he’d done that, he had been thoroughly scolded by five shrill Rito voices before their mother stepped in to send them off, giggling.

Kass sat inside, tuning his concertina, while Amali prepared the morning meal in the adjacent hut. Link could smell fresh fish cooking over the fire. Kass looked up as he entered and smiled warmly, nodding towards a pillow beside him. Link sat.

“Almost ready to go?” Kass asked.

Link nodded. “I should be back in a day or two.”

The road to Gerudo Desert would be dangerous. The desert’s location and surrounding highlands made for only a single way in and out through a narrow, winding mountain pass. Though they had not attacked since the first ambush, he knew that the Yiga were still out there, likely searching for him even now, if not already lying in wait. There would almost certainly be an ambush waiting for him on the road to Gerudo.

So, after discussion with Kass and Teba, he decided that he shouldn’t take the mountain pass at all. Instead, he would fly.

Revali had been the most difficult one to convince. Link hadn’t even been sure he wanted to enlist the help of the Rito Champion, but Teba worried that the journey would be too far with Link on his back. Even with enlisting other Rito’s help, the journey would be difficult. Flying aboard Medoh, on the other hand, would likely see Link there within a day. Eventually, Revali agreed, though he still lamented the thought of Medoh being treated “like a common pack mule”.

By traveling between Kakariko Village and Rito Village with the use of the Sheikah Shrines—one of which he had just activated outside of Rito Village the day prior—Link hoped to further confuse his would-be assassins. With any luck, the Yiga wouldn’t even realize that he’d bypassed them to enter the desert. He hoped that they didn’t have a presence there—he didn’t want to be distracted by their meddling any more than needed.

“I feel confident in my decision to stay,” Kass said, thoughtfully. “But I do regret not being able to see you conclude your journey.”

Kass had decided to remain in Rito Village with his family for a time, and Link agreed. Though he appreciated the companionship, now that Link knew Kass’ family, he didn’t think he would be able to justify putting the Rito into further danger. And considering the events unfolding around them, Kass admitted that he felt a strong need to remain close to his family.

“The journey won’t be over with Naboris.” Link looked towards the east. “There will still be one more foe that I must defeat.”

Kass nodded and played a gentle tone with his instrument, apparently satisfied with the tuning. “You will succeed, Link. I am confident in it.”

“Thanks, Kass.” Link hesitated before continuing. “You’re a good friend.”

Kass actually seemed a little embarrassed, but his expression was warm, nonetheless. “As are you, Link. When this all is finished, and you have freed the land, I hope that you will allow me to perform for you and the princess at the celebration.”

“Celebration?”

“Did you think there wouldn’t be one?” Kass asked.

“No, I just… I hadn’t considered it. I suppose there would need to be one, though.”

“Of course! Our land saved, your princess returned to you—Hyrule will have much to celebrate in the days to come.”

“Think I’ll have any chance to just… disappear into the crowd?” Link asked, smiling wryly.

“Not at all.”

“Then I hope my hair will grow back some by then,” Link said, ruefully running his hand through his shortened locks. He’d already shaved the beard—much to Revali’s delight.

“Don’t worry. I won’t mention your beard in my songs—unless I come up with an exceptionally good rhyme, that is.”

“Thanks.”

Kass laughed, reaching out and patting Link’s knee. They remained there, together, for a short time before Amali announced that breakfast was ready, and Kass’ five daughters all appeared in response to the summons. He ate with the family before saying his farewells and going off in search of Teba, who, strangely, wasn’t in the village. His wife informed Link that Teba had left early that morning to the Flight Range, but that he would be back the following day.

Accepting this, Link made his way out of Rito Village and down to the stable, where Spirit awaited him. He had initially debated even just leaving for the desert immediately but decided, for Spirit’s sake, that the trip back to Kakariko and Hateno was a necessity. He had already left Spirit in the care of strangers during his trip to Death Mountain, but now that he had the ability to transport them both, he intended to leave Spirit somewhere more comfortable. Besides, leaving his horse where he knew spies could report it back to the Yiga would hopefully sow even more confusion.

Link mounted Spirit just outside of the stable, thanking the stable hands, and started forward, away from the small logging village. He glanced back over his shoulder at the tall Rito spire and smiled at the sight of Medoh perched upon its peak.

Of course, Revali would choose to wait there, he thought as he rode out of view. As soon as he was certain no one could see him, he pulled out his Sheikah Slate and used it to teleport away.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Five

It seemed to Link that summer arrived in the rest of Hyrule sometime on his journey to free Medoh. When he appeared in Kakariko Village, standing next to Spirit, he immediately noticed the humid heat of an oppressive sun overhead. It wasn’t anything as bad as Death Mountain, but it made his brow break out in sweat almost immediately, nonetheless.

Below him, the village bustled as always. Farmers worked their fields, harvesting winter crops or tending to their spring-planted ones, which he thought seemed to have grown considerably since he was last here two weeks prior.

As he made his way down from the shrine into the village proper, Sheikah began to call out to him, waving jovially and asking him how he was doing. He didn’t know many of their names, yet they all knew him. Despite his normal misgivings about people knowing him, that fact didn’t bother him as much in Kakariko Village.

He made his way towards Impa’s large home but hesitated when he saw someone that he didn’t recognize. The man seemed simple enough—tall with a medium build, white Sheikah hair pulled into a high topknot, and clothes that left one arm and shoulder exposed, revealing a floral tattoo on his left shoulder. He was older than Link, certainly, but like with many Sheikah, it was difficult to tell how much older due to their hair color and long lifespan.

The man had his finger to his chin, looking down at an easel and canvas thoughtfully. He held in his other hand a narrow-tipped paintbrush. Beside him a small table had been set up with a multitude of paints of various colors and several other brushes.

Normally, he likely wouldn’t have paid the man a second thought, but with the Yiga threat in his recent memory, the man stood out. He was clearly studying Impa’s home with a critical eye. Perhaps he was just creating a painting of the house, which was beautiful in its own right, but Link couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that seeing the man gave him.

He watched the man for a time before approaching Dorian, who stood dutifully before the bridge that led up to Impa’s home. Cado wasn’t present, but Link thought he saw him tending his cuccos on the way into town. The Sheikah guard didn’t notice him until he was nearly upon them—he, too, seemed to be watching the painter with keen interest.

“Link!” Dorian said, eyes widening. “You’re back so soon?”

“I just came from Rito Village,” Link said, patting the Sheikah Slate at his waist. “Would you see if someone could take Spirit to the stable for me? I don’t know if I’ll be staying the night in the village yet.”

“Rito Village? Did you not say you were going to Gerudo Desert?”

Link hesitated, silently cursing himself. He had almost forgotten about his duplicity when leaving the town. “My plans changed shortly after leaving the village.”

“Ahh, of course,” Dorian said. He still looked confused, however. “I take this to mean that you will be going to the desert next?”

“Yes, but… actually, if you wouldn’t mind keeping that to yourself, I would appreciate it. I’m trying to keep the progress of my journey quiet for now.”

Dorian nodded. “Yes, I understand. I’m sure you do not wish to always have to answer questions about it.”

“Something like that.” Link hesitated—Dorian was Impa’s guard. Surely that meant he was trustworthy, right? Impa would not have placed him into her service without reason to trust him. He glanced back over his shoulder at the painter. “Who is he?”

He looked back at Dorian to see his face darken slightly. “His name is Pikango. He only arrived in the village a few days after you left.”

“You don’t trust him?”

Dorian nodded slowly. “I do not trust many outsiders. Especially those whose histories I cannot confirm.”

“Do you think he might be a Yiga spy?”

Dorian started at the word, looking sharply at him. “You know of the Yiga?”

“I have… encountered them on my travels.” The Sheikah still looked confused, so Link lowered his voice and continued. “One of them tried to kill me on the way to Death Mountain. And a few more were waiting for me when I came back down the mountain.”

Dorian’s face paled noticeably. He looked horrified. “I… I didn’t know. I hadn’t heard that any of them found you.”

“How could you have? I only told Impa and Paya. It’s why I lied about my destination. I wanted to throw them off my trail.”

“I see.”

“Listen, keep this to yourself. I don’t know what my next steps are going to be yet, but with any luck, if there are spies in Kakariko Village, they’ll think I went to the desert and report that I’ll be on my way to see the Rito next.”

Dorian nodded slowly, though his face still remained almost as white as his hair. Sheikah truly were disturbed by the mention of their splinter clan.

“Is Impa in? I need to let her know of my progress.”

“Yes, she’s inside… Please, go on up.” Link started up the bridge, but Dorian called back after him a moment later. He turned around to find Dorian looking up at him. “But you did it, didn’t you? You freed another of the Divine Beasts.”

“Yeah. There’s only one left.”

Dorian’s lips upturned into a satisfied smile. He nodded to Link and turned back, waving down a passing Sheikah to take Spirit to the stable.

Hope, Link thought as he continued up towards Impa’s home. Every Divine Beast I defeat brings hope.

He gently rapped on the wood of the doorframe before sliding the door open and peering inside. “Impa? Paya?”

“Link!” Paya appeared a moment later in the doorway, looking slightly disheveled. Her cheeks were flushed. “Please, come in.”

She opened the door wide and let him into the entry hall. All of the pillows had been stacked to the sides of the room, and Link noticed that some of the floor appeared to be damp. He glanced at Paya and saw that she held a wet towel in her hand.

“Cleaning again, huh?” Link said.

Paya held up the towel, looking slightly embarrassed. “I really do more than just clean, you just… always seem to come around when I am.” Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, which stood out on her normally pale skin.

“Paya?” Impa’s voice called from one of the back rooms. “Who’s here? Whoever it is, tell them to come back later! I’m busy.”

“It’s Link, Grandmother!”

There was a moment of silence that was then filled with the sounds of Impa’s walking staff tapping the wood floor. She emerged from behind one of the staircases a moment later, eyes shining with excitement.

“You did it,” she said.

“I did it,” Link said, returning her smile.

For a moment, Impa looked far younger than her years. She stood up straighter, and her grin grew even wider. For a brief moment, Link saw a memory of a much younger Sheikah woman with a wide-brimmed Sheikah hat resting on her back and tattoo on her forehead. The family resemblance between Paya and her younger grandmother was uncanny.

Impa’s eyes flicked to the still-open door. Her smile faltered. “Close the door, Paya.”

Paya did as told, sliding the door shut. She then turned, going to the stacks of pillows and removing three.

“Leave those there. I’m not finished with my oatmeal yet.” Impa smirked as Paya dutifully put the pillows back. She met Link’s eyes and winked. “Come on, you can tell me about it while I eat.”

She led him back into her small kitchen, which despite having been used recently, was as immaculately clean as the rest of the house. Paya followed quickly, her chores forgotten for the time being.

Impa walked over to the small, knee-high table, and settled herself down onto a small pillow. She motioned for Link to sit across from her, which he did.

“Want anything?” Impa asked, picking up her wooden spoon and taking a bite. Link shrugged but nodded. He had breakfast not long ago, but it would be good to eat something other than fish. “Paya, why don’t you get Link a bowl?”

As Paya set about preparing a bowl of the oatmeal for Link, Impa fixed her stare back on him. “Now, how are the Rito doing? I haven’t been out that way for a hundred years, but the way that bard talked about them, it sounded like not much has changed for them from before the Calamity.”

Link began to tell Impa of his experiences in Rito Village: the way they seemed to still be flourishing, despite the presence of Medoh and the food shortages; the Hylian logging community; and how they were doing now that the Divine Beast had been tamed.

A minute later, Paya approached, placing a wooden bowl of steaming oatmeal down in front of Link. “Would you like some sugar? It’s pretty bland without it.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Paya smiled at him and rose, looking to the shelf. She frowned after a moment, however, and turned back to the table, scanning the items atop it. A moment later, she gasped and, to Link’s surprise, glared at Impa.

“Grandmother!”

“What?” Impa said, suddenly defensive.

“You added sugar to your oatmeal. You know that you’re not supposed to do that!”

“You’re the one who just said it’s bland without it.”

“To Link. Link can handle a little extra sugar in his diet, I’m sure, but you need to be more careful. You aren’t as young as you used to be.”

“Bah!”

Paya reached down, snatching up the small jar of sugar from the table, still shooting her grandmother a fierce glare. She spooned out some of it into Link’s oatmeal, and then turned back to the shelf. She set it on the highest shelf, standing on her toes to do so—well outside of Impa’s reach. She walked back over and sat down next to Link—likely so she could keep glaring at Impa.

Link grinned, and Impa shot him a dangerous look. “You’d best wipe that smile from your face, boy.”

“It’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever quite seen this… side of you two before.”

Paya looked at him, and her cheeks flushed again. But she still sat up straight. “Not many people get to see all that I do to keep Grandmother healthy.”

“I’m healthy enough,” Impa said, scowling, before returning to her bowl of oatmeal. “Honestly, girl, you make it out to be a terrible burden.”

“It wouldn’t be so terrible if you didn’t keep sneaking sweets when I have my back turned. You told me to clean the audience room just to get me out of sight, didn’t you?”

Impa looked at her with a sly smile. Paya sighed, shaking her head.

He awoke suddenly, looking around the dark room. Moonlight streamed in through the window in his room at the inn, illuminating the sparse furniture in pale light. Nothing moved in the room, yet something felt off to him. His instincts screamed that he was in danger. Under attack.

He threw the blankets off of him and stood up, looking around. He found his sword where he’d left it, sitting in its scabbard against his headboard, within reach, even when lying in bed. He unsheathed it, holding it firmly in his left hand, and went to the window, looking outside. Nothing moved.

The door to his room burst open, and he whirled, dropping into a defensive stance, ready to lunge or dodge as needed.

Paya stood in the doorway, dressed in her nightgown with a cloak draped over her shoulders. Her hair was down, and her face lacked the makeup that it normally bore. She looked at Link with terrified eyes.

Link lowered his sword, stepping forward. “Paya, what is it?”

“It’s Grandmother,” she said. Now that he was closer to her, he could see her trembling. “She’s been taken.”

“Taken? By who?”

Biting her lip, she glanced down to a round object held in her hands. Link followed her gaze. In her hand was a white mask, emblazoned with the inverted eye of the Yiga clan. Link stared at the mask, his heart thudding loudly in his head. They finally made their move, it would seem, but why this one? Why Impa?

He turned, snatching up his tunic and slipping it on over his head. “What happened? They ignored you?”

“No, one of them tried to take me as well.”

Link straightened and looked around, concerned that one of the Yiga might be ready to burst into the room, chasing her. But then he saw her expression. There was terror, there, yes, but a hardness that he hadn’t seen before.

He looked at her more carefully, taking in her appearance. Her nightgown was largely covered by the cloak over her shoulders, but now that he studied her appearance, he could see the dark stains.

“Are you hurt?”

Paya shook her head.

“Good.”

He turned back and put his legs into his trousers, pulling them up and cinching his belt on over the tunic. He strapped the sword on over his shoulder and placed the Ancient sword in his belt—he wouldn’t be caught weaponless against these warriors again. Finally, he strapped his shield to his back, grateful for the comforting weight.

After attaching the Sheikah Slate to his waist, he looked back at Paya. “Do you know where they went?”

She nodded and turned, hurrying out. He followed but hesitated when out in the common room. Earlier in the night, he saw Pikango in the common area earlier and had caught a glimpse at the location of his room. He motioned for Paya to wait and walked to the door, reaching out hesitantly and slowly turning the doorknob. Unlocked.

Link pushed the door open and peered into the dark room. His eyes fell on the empty bed. He turned away, expression hardening. Together, he and Paya hurried out of the inn.

The village remained quiet. No alarms had been sounded. The strike on Impa’s home had been surgical and silent. If Paya failed to fend off her attacker, then he wouldn’t have even known of the attack.

Then why kidnap them at all? he thought as they crossed the open square. Why not just kill me in my sleep? He hadn’t even barricaded his door last night—he felt safer in Kakariko Village than other places and hadn’t even thought of it after the pleasant evening with Impa and Paya.

“Where are the guards?” he asked when he saw that no guards were posted outside of the home.

“Dorian went after them when I came out. He said that he thought he saw movement up the hill towards the forest.”

Link nodded and paused by the entrance to the home. He glanced back towards Paya, hesitating. “Paya, this is likely going to be a trap. You don’t have to accompany, if you don’t want. I’ll get her back.”

She looked at Link and shook her head. “I need to do my part, too.”

He nodded towards their dark home. “Then go get dressed. You won’t be able to fight very well in that.”

Paya glanced towards the moonlit hill, hesitating, but then turned and hurried up the bridge and into her home. Link followed, eyes darting around for any movement. It was possible that the Yiga could still be close by.

Once inside, he saw the signs of the fight. Paya had already gone up to her room, but the body of the Yiga lay in the center of the audience chamber, face-down in a pool of dark blood. Grimacing, Link bent down and turned the body over, looking into the lifeless eyes of an unfamiliar man. He still had the knife in his chest. Link didn’t think the man was from the village. Not the spy, then.

Paya emerged a minute later, moving down the stairs with surprising silence. He looked up, and his eyes widened when he saw her.

She wore dark blue, tight-fitting clothing that covered her from neck all the way down to her toes. The Sheikah eye was emblazoned on her chest, but even this was a darker color than typical. Her neck was protected by a thick scarf, and a mask covered her nose and mouth, leaving only her eyes visible. Her hair had been pulled back in a tighter bun than she normally wore, ensuring it wouldn’t get in her way. She had a curved Sheikah kodachi sheathed on her left hip, and he saw two thin daggers—one on her opposite hip, and one under her left armpit.

“That is…” Link said, feeling a little stunned at her appearance. This was not the Paya he had come to know through quiet conversations on the balcony. He cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

They moved as quietly as they could. Paya, with her outfit carefully tailored for stealth, made little noise at all. Link did what he could to emulate her posture, but they also didn’t have time to waste on perfecting his stealth.

“How did they get past the guard?” he asked as they climbed the hill, whispering so only Paya could hear.

“I don’t know,” she said. “They just appeared in our room in a puff of smoke. One grabbed Grandmother right away—she was in bed. The other one tried to get me, but we fought and fell down the stairs.”

She didn’t elaborate further, but Link could guess what happened after that. The fight in the audience chamber. The knife.

“It never occurred to me that you would know how to fight.”

“Grandmother made sure I was trained in Sheikah fighting techniques, but…”

Link saw her shudder in the darkness. Yes, she knew how to fight—how to kill—but that did not make one a killer. Not like him.

“You did great. When we find them, focus on getting Impa to safety. I’ll handle the Yiga.”

Hopefully they won’t care about Impa once I arrive, Link thought grimly. The Yiga will spring their trap, and the two of them can escape.

He glanced down to the Sheikah Slate on his hip, positioning his fingers over the icons. The screen gave no indication by touch which rune he was pressing, but he was able to judge fairly well where each rune was located without looking at it. It would be a last resort—he didn’t want to start flinging explosives around with innocents nearby.

They reached the glowing shrine, looking around hesitantly. The nearby forest seemed dark this night, save for a handful of fireflies visible in the shadows.

Link glanced towards Paya, but she shook her head. Neither of them had any idea where the Yiga had gone from here, assuming they even came up this way. There was no sign of Dorian, either. While they found some tracks in the dirt on the way up, hoping to find clear tracks in the forest at night would be difficult, even for an experienced hunter.

“Stay behind me,” Link said and then set out into the forest. He didn’t set out on the path that led into the heart of the forest, choosing instead to remain in the shadows, carefully watching his steps.

No sticks on the ground, he thought as they made their way between the trees. He looked at the ground, looking for any sign of broken branches or twigs, but nothing but lush grass, plants, and flowers covered the ground. He recalled noticing that the first time he’d visited this forest as well.

Unfortunately, there was no mystical rabbit-like creature there tonight. The forest all around them was dark and surprisingly quiet. He could hear night insects chirping, but they seemed somehow muffled.

After a few minutes, Link stopped and held up a hand. He heard nothing behind him, so he looked over his shoulder. She was there, though barely visible in her dark clothing. So quiet. She doesn’t make a sound when she moves. She may not have been a warrior by nature, but she clearly took instruction seriously.

He looked back around, squinting as he gazed around the dark forest. The canopy overhead had grown so thick that almost no moonlight shone down through it. Anyone could be out there, watching. Waiting.

Suddenly, a firefly burst into life just beyond a tree in front of Link. Its green light seemed too bright in the darkness, illuminating the rough bark of the tree. It faded after a few seconds, leaving a glowing afterimage in his sight. For a time, there was darkness again, and then another firefly began to glow. And another.

He slowly stepped forward, and as he did so, several more fireflies flickered to life. They seemed to form a line through the trees, as if they were leading them to a destination. He glanced back towards Paya and saw that her eyes were wide over her mask.

This is insane, Link thought as he followed the line of fireflies. Yet he felt a strong pull in his heart to do so. It was as if the forest itself wanted to lead him deeper. The children called the forest magic. And I saw that creature here…

They reached a place, much deeper in the forest, where the moonlight pierced the canopy, shining down onto a small clearing. Link hesitated at the border of trees, looking into the clearing with cautious eyes. He felt, rather than heard, Paya stop beside him.

Suddenly, fireflies all around them burst to life. Dozens, no, hundreds of glowing green lights floated around them. In the trees, in the clearing, from within bushes and on flowers. Slowly, Link stood up straighter, gazing around in awe as the forest was lit up around them.

Paya lowered her mask, looking around with an expression of amazement. Link met her eyes and, despite the dire situation, smiled. She returned his smile, no hint of the normal anxiety she displayed around him in her expression. She was quite pretty.

That’s when Link heard the voices.

The fireflies around them winked out all at once, plunging them back into darkness. Paya raised her mask back into place. Link placed the shield on his arm and unsheathed his sword as quietly as he could. Together, they creeped through the trees towards the source of the sound.

“—don’t need to do this. I’m here—let her go.”

They made their way a short distance to another clearing, this one before a narrow brook that bisected the forest. Nearby, a small wooden bridge made from thick tree branches strapped together crossed the water. Across the bridge lay a meadow lit by the full moon overhead. Dorian stood there, his curved Sheikah sword held in his right hand.

Another figure stood in the center of the clearing. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His clothing the color of blood and his stark white mask identified him as Yiga, though he wore more armor than the first one Link had fought. He carried a wickedly long sword by his side, held in both hands.

“We warned you, Dorian. You knew what would happen if you tried to leave the organization,” the tall Yiga said.

Paya placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, stepping up beside him. She leaned close, whispering into his ear.

“That’s not the one that took Grandmother.”

Link nodded, studying the edges of the clearing. Where was the other one? Where was Impa?

There. He could just see a short form huddled against one of the trees. It was difficult to make out, but he thought that it must have been Impa. No sign of the other Yiga, though. How many were there?

“I know full well the cost of leaving the organization,” Dorian spat, adjusting his grip on his sword. “And I’m here to pay it. Just let her go. Let the others be.”

The Yiga chuckled. “You fool. Do you really this your life alone will satisfy the master?” He held his sword out, inspecting its shining blade in the moonlight. “No, much more blood than yours must flow tonight to repay us for your transgression. Only after you have watched your children perish will I allow you to die.”

“I won’t let you harm them.” Dorian lowered himself into a warrior’s stance. “You’ll never harm someone I care about again.”

Behind Dorian, stepping out silently from behind a tree, another Yiga member appeared. This one was of a much smaller, lither build, much like Delia had been. He crouched low as he approached Dorian from behind.

Link stiffened. This wasn’t a trap for him. It was a trap for a member of their own clan. It was a trap for Dorian.

“Dorian, behind you!” Link said, bursting out from behind the tree.

Dorian whirled, attacking the smaller Yiga, who leapt back and disappeared in a flash of smoke and light.

“What?” the taller Yiga said, looking at Link. Though his mask showed no expression, his posture revealed shock. “You!”

Link ran across the bridge to stand next to Dorian, who looked at him in confusion. He didn’t hear Paya run up behind him, and he hoped that she would be on her way to free Impa and get her to safety. He couldn’t do anything to signal to her now, however—he didn’t dare let the Yiga know that she was there.

“You didn’t tell us that this one had returned,” the Yiga said, looking back to Dorian. Dorian turned his gaze away from Link, instead staring defiantly at the Yiga. “How fortunate, then, that you led him into our trap anyway. The Calamity truly smiles down upon us this night!”

Enough of this, Link thought. He lunged toward the tall Yiga, thrusting his sword for the taller man’s heart. The Yiga stepped back, bringing his own sword to bear.

“Cover my back!” Link said, thinking of the way the other Yiga had approached.

Dorian said nothing but took up a position behind Link, facing in the opposite direction.

Link and the Yiga began to dance. The Yiga had the advantage of reach—his sword was easily twice as long as Link’s—but Link struck out in quick blows that the heavier sword had trouble keeping up with.

The Yiga swung his sword wide, and Link stepped into his guard, deflecting the sword blow with his shield, and thrusted his sword up towards his opponent’s gut. Its tip tasted blood, but the Yiga managed to avoid the worst of the attack, jumping back. He swore in a language Link didn’t understand, placing a hand over the shallow hole in his gut.

And then, in a puff of smoke, he disappeared.

“Above you!” Dorian cried.

Link leaped forward as the Yiga reappeared, swinging his sword down in a chopping motion, separating him from Dorian. Dorian attempted to attack the tall Yiga, but the Yiga backhanded him with a gauntleted hand, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The Yiga wrenched his sword’s tip out from where it had embedded in the ground and thrust it at Link’s heart. He deflected it and rushed forward, sweeping out with a foot and tripping the taller man, sending them sprawling onto the ground.

In a clean motion, Link reversed his grip on his sword and plunged it down towards the stunned Yiga’s heart. Suddenly, a sickle caught Link’s blade like a hook, pulling him off-balance and sending the sword’s tip into the ground beside the Yiga. At the same time, he felt something grab the shield on his arm and wrench it free.

He leaped back, putting some space between him and the now three Yiga. Two more had joined the fight—each wielding their curved sickles. One of them threw his shield into the tree line. The taller one rolled to his feet and held his sword out to the front, staring at Link.

Dorian stepped up beside Link again, holding his sword in a defensive stance. The standoff continued for another moment, and then the two smaller Yiga began to flank to the sides, seeking to surround them.

Link flexed his right arm, angry at himself for letting his shield be snatched away like that. It left him feeling exposed. If there was ever a time to have that added defense, it was when outnumbered by these crafty fighters.

After considering his options, he pulled his Ancient sword free of its place on his belt and ignited it in his off-hand. Its blue blade shone in the night, and the Yiga seemed to hesitate for just a moment. Then they attacked.

One of the Yiga leaped in with her sickle, aiming its tip for Link’s throat. He knocked it aside with his blade, but the taller Yiga’s blade followed a moment later. Link blocked this with the Ancient sword, which crackled with energy when the blades met. It didn’t cut through the long sword, but when the blades separated, he could see a deep cut in the blade, the edges of which glowed with red heat.

The third Yiga attacked Dorian behind Link, but he couldn’t spare them a glance for the moment. The taller Yiga seemed stunned by what had happened to his sword, but the second Yiga attacked again, lashing out with the same grace that Delia had.

She fought viciously, striking with blindingly fast strikes. Link was not defenseless this time, however. He caught her blade with his own and then stabbed forward with the Ancient sword, but she slapped his wrist to the side—and then attempted to grab his left arm, but he twisted out of her grip. He kicked her back with his boot and dodged as the large Yiga’s blade almost split his head in two.

He tried to respond in turn, aiming a cut at the Yiga’s arm that would have disarmed him, but the tall man moved with quickness that belied his size. Before Link could follow up with another attack, the other Yiga was upon him again, her sickle passing by his arm close enough to cut into the fabric of his tunic.

He held his breath, focusing on the moment. Everything around him slowed. He looked into the white mask of the Yiga woman, who had overextended in her attempt to catch him off-guard. And then he thrust his sword into her heart. In slow motion, her masked visage looked down at the sword piercing her chest. The sickle fell from her fingers. Her knees began to buckle.

Everything began to move around him again, and Link wrenched his sword free, crashing it against the taller Yiga’s blade in a spray of blood. The long sword snapped in the place his Ancient sword had cut. The half that spun free left a cut in Link’s arm as it passed before sinking, tip-first, into the ground.

He went in for the kill, fueled by white-hot rage, blood thundering in his ears. Never again, he thought as he attacked the Yiga in a flourish of cuts. You’ll never harm those who I’m sworn to protect! The Yiga, clearly a blademaster in his own right, parried him with his broken blade, but barely, giving ground. Not Impa! Link swung, and the Yiga blocked. Not Paya! Link tried to stab the Yiga’s arm with his Ancient sword, but the Yiga leaped back and then lunged forward, swinging. Not Zelda!

All around him, battle raged. Dorian fought the other Yiga, but he fared poorly, sporting several shallow cuts on his arms and chest. Paya fought as well, engaged in a battle against a fourth Yiga member who wielded a pair of circular blades with spiked edges. The woman Link stabbed lay dying on the ground, blood soaking the grass underneath her.

And, in his mind’s eye, Link could see three other Yiga closing in on Princess Zelda, who ran for her life.

The tall Yiga’s broken sword swung towards Link’s side, but he met it with his Zora sword before stepping forward and ramming his Ancient sword up into the Yiga’s throat. He swept the crackling blade to the side and deactivated it, shoving it into his belt.

He ran for Dorian. The Yiga that he fought noticed Link and leaped back, disappearing suddenly in a puff of smoke. He reappeared in the air several feet away and hovered there just long enough to fling a set of throwing knives towards Link. One cut a deep gash along Link’s right shoulder, and he grunted at the sharp flare of pain, but didn’t stop moving.

When the Yiga fell to the ground, he was there. The Yiga desperately tried to defend himself, hastily pulling out his sickle to block, but Link knocked it free with a powerful two-handed chop that broke the other man’s wrist. The Yiga’s life ended a split-second later.

“Link!” Impa’s voice. Link whirled and saw the last Yiga score a hit on Paya’s bicep, one of the spike’s digging deep. Paya gasped and backed away, dropping her kodachi, while holding her bleeding arm.

Something awoke inside of Link. A primal rage unlike anything else he had felt since waking, but one that he was keenly familiar with all the same. He raced forward, crossing the distance with more speed than seemed possible. As the Yiga prepared to strike Paya down, Link reached her, shoving her back. He caught the circular blade between two of its spikes with his sword and twisted, breaking the Yiga’s grip.

He was the only thing that stood between this foul being and those he would protect. Nothing would befall them while he was there.

He struck. The Yiga tried to fend him off with his remaining blade, but such a weapon was not made for direct confrontation with a sword. Especially not one wielded by Link. The assassin’s life ended a split second later.

Link shook as he turned, looking at those around him. Dorian, who looked at him with abstract horror. Impa, who watched him with a keen eye, satisfied. Zelda, who looked upon him with utter shock from her place on the ground…

No.

It wasn’t Zelda, it was Paya, so why…

Memories flooded in.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

That damn princess.

Link tried. He tried, dammit! Despite their differences, despite her animosity towards him, he kept his temper. He kept silent, refusing to say what he really thought of her attitude towards him. He had even been willing to forgive her “brash words, spoken in misdirected anger” after she apologized for the incident by the Sheikah Shrine.

He had hoped that things would change after that. And, perhaps, they had even begun to. She certainly seemed kinder after her apology for a few days on their way to Gerudo Desert. But then she grew surly again, often sighing to herself when she looked at him. And, of course, when they reached the desert, she tried to leave him behind once more.

Succeeded, in fact, much to his dismay. Urbosa had attempted to help him reconnect with her in a number of ways, but her most recent ploy had backfired spectacularly. She had likely embarrassed Princess Zelda too much with her thunderous practical joke the night before, which led to this.

A missing princess.

Urbosa sent a team of Gerudo out on both horseback and sled to search the area around Gerudo Town. She, herself, went straight for the Divine Beast, thinking that the princess had, perhaps, decided to get some time to herself for further study. Link, horseless and without a clue, chose to check the bazaar, thinking that she could have disguised herself. After all, a disguise could work to get into the city—why couldn’t it work to get out?

Every cloaked figure could be her, and he surreptitiously tried to verify the identity of each one, which proved difficult. Out in the desert heat, cloaks could be as much a lifesaver as they were in the frigid Hebra mountains.

He glanced up towards the sun overhead. It was approaching midday, and the temperature still climbed. The wind had picked up as well, blowing dust and grit against his face. What if she’s caught out in a sandstorm? he thought and inwardly grimaced. He should have just tried harder to talk to her last night. She asked him to speak, to tell her what he really thought of her, and he’d just… stayed silent.

She assumed that he hated her. Which, he thought, as he leaned against a palm tree in the small oasis, wasn’t true. No, in fact, he actually found her presence to be quite pleasant, when she wasn’t actively trying to make him miserable. Those times when she seemed to forget her dislike of him, when she’d start speaking about her research and her hopes of what discoveries they might find… And he didn’t think she was ever more beautiful than she was with her sleeves rolled up, working on some kind of internal component of a Divine Beast or digging in the dirt with Purah.

Goddess, he thought. What am I even thinking?

He was fond of his princess, despite her prickly edges. Oh, he didn’t like her temper—not when it was directed at him, anyway. And he was hurt by her seemingly irrational dislike of him, though he’d long since realized that such feelings were very difficult for her to control. And then, of course, there was what Urbosa had told him the night before.

“She gets frustrated every time she looks up and sees you carrying that sword on your back. It makes her feel like a failure when it comes to her own destiny.”

It wasn’t his fault that he’d drawn the Master Sword. He hadn’t expected anything to even happen! It was… an accident. But, then, that was the real problem, wasn’t it?

“She’s put in more than enough time. Ever since she was a young girl, she’s gone through rigorous daily routines to show her dedication…”

Link had seen them. Every day, at dawn and dusk. Often before she even knew he was awake, or when she thought he had stepped away for a time. When she could, she would do it kneeling in a body of water, though he didn’t fully understand why. She prayed every day for the blessing that seemed as though it would never come. To think that he’d once thought her impatient.

“She really is quite… special.”

Urbosa had spoken of her with such fondness, such love. Watching the way she brushed the hair away from the dozing princess’ face, Link saw a mother’s love in her eyes and tone. A mother, like the one that the princess barely even remembered.

And, suddenly, Link understood. He understood everything. Why she acted the way she did, why she grew so angry at him, and why he had been so unable to find common ground with her. It wasn’t all his fault, no—the princess still had quite the temper, and he felt that her anger was misplaced and irrational—but he hadn’t helped things. He’d been silent when she wanted him to speak. He’d been aloof when she needed a friend. He’d crowded her when she needed space. He’d stood behind her when, in fact, perhaps he should have been standing beside her.

Why hadn’t he seen it before? Urbosa claimed that he wasn’t to blame for any of it but was that really true? Had he not dogmatically pursued the qualities of a noble knight, even when it was clear that such behavior did nothing to help? Perhaps his father had been right about a knight’s duty, especially in the presence of royalty, but did Princess Zelda attempt to act like royalty when out of the castle? Did she act like she wanted to be treated like royalty in any place they’d been on their journeys together?

He was a fool. And now—

Screaming.

He pushed himself off of the tree. A cloaked figure from within the bazaar suddenly ran out of it, towards the nearby sand dunes. As she ran, her hood blew back, revealing a familiar blonde braid. Princess Zelda ran as fast as she could in the loose sand.

And she was pursued.

One figure, at first. Cloaked, but his hood fell back as well, revealing another, tighter-fitting hood and white mask. And then he was joined by another, this one a woman. He saw her just briefly as she whirled, throwing her cloak to the ground. She donned a white mask and sprinted after the pair. And then, to his horror, a third Yiga clan member joined the chase, coming from the other direction, seeking to cut off the princess’s escape.

“You be sure to protect her with your life,” Urbosa had said.

He sprang into motion, dropping his cloak and unsheathing the Master Sword from his back. He had to move, to run harder than he’d ever run before. He had to protect her!

Zelda’s cloak fell from her shoulders, finally discarded to aid her flight, yet it was too little. The Yiga easily gained on her, wearing shoes better designed for sand. Link’s own boots sank into the sand too easily. While he and Zelda kicked up clouds of sand with every step, the Yiga seemed to barely leave footprints.

He would never catch them in time. He could never save her in time.

He yelled, trying to get the Yiga’s attention. Trying to do anything to stop what he knew would befall his princess. Yet they were single-minded in their pursuit, spreading out. Surrounding her.

She came up short, hand to her breast, looking around in terror as she realized that her escape route was blocked by the third Yiga. She spun, trying to find another way, but the Yiga from earlier closed the gap. She whirled, only to stumble backwards and fall as her first pursuer shed his cloak, stepping forward and wielding a wicked sickle.

The Yiga spun his sickle in his fingers casually and then raised it above his head, preparing to end her life.

“No!”

The Yiga’s blade fell, and the Master Sword rose. The sickle blade spun away through the air. Link swept his sword down again in a two-handed cleave, cutting deep into the assassin from collar to rib.

As the Yiga fell, Link turned, breathing heavily and looking at the remaining two would-be killers with a primal rage that he’d never felt before. They would not have his princess.

The two Yiga backed up a step, glancing at each other. Fear showed in their posture. They looked back at Link and took another step backward. Suddenly, with a burst of flame and smoke, they both disappeared into thin air.

Link stayed there for a time, his chest heaving, waiting for a counterattack. Waiting for the assassins to make another move. They did not return, however, and he gradually became aware of a new sound.

Sobbing.

He turned the Master Sword over, driving it point first down into the sand, and knelt beside Princess Zelda, who had buried her face in her hands. “Princess,” he said. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head, though her body continued to shake with her cries. Hesitantly, Link reached out with an open palm, unsure of what he should do. What was appropriate? She decided that for him a second later, however.

She looked up and saw his hand, just inches from her shoulder, and then she met his eyes. In a rush of motion, she threw her arms around him, knocking him onto his backside, and clung to him, trembling with renewed sobs.

Slowly, carefully, Link wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her while she cried.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“No!” Link cried, stumbling back from Impa and Paya. He shook violently, looking around with wide eyes at the dark forest. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t where he needed to be!

“Link—” Paya said, but he didn’t hear her.

He whirled. He saw the bodies of the Yiga. The assassins that had tried to murder his princess. He stopped them, yet where was she? Where was Zelda?

The castle. She’s in the castle.

He needed to protect her. He needed to save her!

Link removed the Sheikah Slate from his belt with trembling hands. The map. The map. Where was—there!

“Link, what are you doing?” Impa’s voice. He ignored it, instead staring down at the blue icon that indicated the Sheikah Shrine that he had activated just outside of Castle Town.

He would protect his princess.

Link pressed the icon, and his body broke apart into thousands of blue strands of light as he teleported away from the forest.

To Hyrule Castle.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Six

Somewhere, deep within his being, Link knew that he wasn’t in his right mind. He’d gone mad. No Divine Beasts. No Master Sword. No plan. No hope. But none of that mattered anymore. He couldn’t stop. The primal beast that had been suppressed by his lack of memory would not be held captive again.

Red lightning forked overhead, and even the full moon seemed to shine with an eerie red cast this close to the castle. The feeling of Malice was far stronger here. What he experienced in the Divine Beasts had only been but a taste of what Ganon’s consolidated power was truly like. Here, so close to the creature of rage and destruction, the air grew red with haze, and the oppressive feeling of its presence was far more palpable.

Even without a plan, however, he knew what he was going to do. Where he would go. The castle’s front entrance swarmed with Guardians, as did the ruins of the city that once stood before the gates. As mad as he was, Link knew he could not storm the gates and hope to survive.

But there were other ways into the castle. Others still entered the castle through secret means, from what Boldon told him. And coming here had sparked a memory in his mind of one of them.

He glanced up, hiding under the overhang of one of the massive stone columns that had erupted around the castle when Ganon emerged, waiting for the flying Guardian to pass, its eye seeking out targets. The thing terrified Link, but the thought of his princess forced to remain in this place even a moment longer terrified him more.

Once it passed, he leaped from the short ledge and into the murky water below. The moat’s current immediately began to try to push him downstream, but he swam with it, using techniques that Mipha taught him so many years ago. His time was short—if he were still in the water when the Guardian returned, he would be defenseless.

He reached the opposite bank quickly and pulled himself up, crouching low behind large rock as the Guardian passed once again. He could hear its propellers spinning and the whir of its eye as it gazed around.

When it was gone, he stood up straighter, looking around in the dark for what he knew was there—assuming it hadn’t collapsed in the intervening years.

“Father, why would the castle have secret entrances? Wouldn’t that make it easier for assassins and thieves to get in?”

“Only if we don’t know about them, Link. However, if we know about them, they can become powerful tools—even better if those assassins and thieves don’t know that we know.”

Memories flashed through his mind as he felt along the wall. How old had he been when his father brought him here? Only a boy, to be certain. Likely not even yet a squire. Did he live in the castle then? Or had he been visiting from his family’s lands around Hateno Village?

The darkness pressed all around him as he searched. Here, under the shadow of Hyrule Castle, he couldn’t even see the moon any longer. The stars were obscured by the red haze, which seemed to absorb light while giving off no light of its own. Finally, he felt it. The crack in the wall. Too small for a large man, but he thought that he could still fit.

He removed the sword and sheathe from his back, holding it out to the side so as not to catch on the rock. Then he began to ease himself into the small crevice. It was a tight fit. He couldn’t duck down because of how narrow it was, but his head barely even squeezed through turned to the side. When he finally emerged on the other side, his arms and face were both scraped bloody. But he was through.

The other side was pitch-black. No lights shone in the chamber beyond, which only heightened Link’s sense of foreboding. He slipped the scabbard back onto his back and pulled the Ancient sword from his belt, activating it. Its blue glow revealed a small cave within the rock, and a passage that led deeper into the rock foundations of the castle.

Hyrule Castle had long ago been built upon a mountain. Rather than transport stone from other locations throughout the nation, its builders had, instead, used the very stone of the mountain to build the castle. Like many mountains, the one upon which the castle had been built had a small network of caves running throughout it. Most had been intentionally collapsed, but some—like this one—were either left intentionally or were not discovered until centuries later.

Link pressed forward through the darkness, holding his shining sword over his head. It illuminated bare stone walls for a time, but as he moved further into the darkness, he began to see patches of dark ooze coating parts of the walls and floor. Malice.

What kind of creatures inhabit this place? he wondered as he stared at one patch of Malice that stretched from the ceiling to the floor in a web of dark strands. I have no more arrows. I don’t even have a bow.

Yet he pressed on. He couldn’t turn back—not when he was so close to his princess. He would save her.

In time, the passage began to slope upwards. He passed several other branches in the cave but ignored them. He had no memory of this place, but he still knew the right direction to take.

Link entered a larger chamber. Part of the floor was full of water that gave off a haze of steam—a natural spring of sorts, much like those around Death Mountain. The path looped around the spring, forming a ramp that led up to another passage twenty feet or so above the water. He began towards that, but then stopped, looking at the opposite wall. The stone on it seemed different somehow.

What?

Link approached, holding his sword high to provide light. His sword’s light soon illuminated a smooth, rounded section of the wall. Sheikah patterns stood out on it. It looked like…

He gasped, stumbling back. There, in the wall, was the partially buried form of a Guardian. Only a small portion of it had been uncovered, yet its design was unmistakable. He hesitantly reached out, placing his hand against the smooth curvature of its rotating head. It was not alive, as the ones above the surface were.

He removed his hand and walked along the wall, spotting more partially-uncovered Guardians. From the gouges and cracks in the wall, he suspected that these had still been in the process of being exhumed when the Calamity befell the castle. Now that he was looking, he could see old, rusted remains of pickaxes and other tools still laying in abandoned piles nearby.

Shuddering, he turned his back on the machines and continued up the slope to the higher level. Here, the passage changed. Though the walls were still rock, wooden beams stood to the sides and overhead to provide additional support and prevent tunnel collapses. He continued further, trying to ignore the growing amount of Malice that coated much of the tunnel’s surface.

The end of the passage arrived suddenly. As he continued on, his sword’s light suddenly fell on the remains of a brick wall that had long since collapsed. The wall had once been a secret doorway—Link could still see the ancient tracks that it had once swung in on.

Now that Link saw it, he remembered what could have been a fatal flaw in his use of this passage. This fake wall was designed to only open from the inside, swinging out into the cave, in order to prevent it being used to sneak into the castle. However, the wall was little more than a pile of old bricks on the floor of the castle now.

Link wondered what had eventually broken into the castle through this passage. Had it been the treasure hunters and adventurers that Boldon told Link about, or was it something worse?

Pushing such worries aside, he continued in through the broken wall, setting foot inside Hyrule Castle for the first time in over one hundred years.

He slowly waved his sword, casting its light around him. Nearby, hanging off a brick wall, an old chain glinted in the blue light, its links fused by years of rust and decay. He inspected the chain, finding a pair of iron shackles at either end. Frowning, Link crept forward until his light revealed the iron bars of a prison cell. The secret passage, it seemed, led into Hyrule Castle’s dungeon.

He continued on. The dungeon was extensive, containing multiple cells on either side. There were other rooms as well—rooms with broken doors and dark interiors. Link ignored those. Most of them were likely just guard chambers, while others were interrogation rooms.

As he made his way through the dungeon, he soon found that not all of the cells were empty. Some contained sets of old bones, a few still hanging from chains on the walls, the skeletons held together by the barest remains of old sinew. Others had piles of filthy rags, in which their former occupants had likely huddled as they waited for the slow death of dehydration. All abandoned after the Calamity.

He did his best to ignore such things, pressing forward, but one such bundle of rags eventually caught his eye. After all, it was moving.

He paused by the cell, looking in horror as a huddled figure shifted under the brown rags. Though the smell given off by Malice nearly overwhelmed his senses by now, now that he focused on it, he could smell the unmistakable scent of rot and filth.

How could anyone still be alive down here? How long has he been in this prison? Did someone lock him up recently?

The figure slowly lifted its head, but the sword’s light did little to pierce the darkness beneath its hood. The light glinted off a pair of dark eyes, however.

Slowly, the person inside rose. The rags fell away, revealing a naked body underneath, far thinner and more desiccated than seemed possible. The prisoner shuffled forward, and Link could do little else but watch as he slowly approached the beacon of light.

Link’s confusion gave way to horror as the figure finally entered the light fully. Its face was a mask of sunken flesh that stretched tight over its skull. It had no lips, revealing brown teeth and a tongue-less mouth. The skin on its body was papery thin and simply not there in places, revealing rotten muscle and bone underneath. It lacked several fingers, and the fingers that it did have had no fingernails. One of its legs ended in a stump at the ankle, giving it an unsteady hobble as it approached him.

The creature inside the cell groaned, reaching one of its rotten hands forward. One of its fingers ended in bone, the flesh long since eaten away. It reached through the bars of the cell for him, and he stepped back, eyes widening. The creature opened its mouth and released a shriek unlike anything that Link had ever heard.

Every nerve in his body fired, every muscle tensed, and every thought in his head was replaced by that of purest terror. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He could only watch as the terrible creature, once man, but now something far less, tried to reach for him, its fingers only inches from his tunic.

Somewhere down the hall, from where Link had just come, he heard another creature moan. And then another. To his horror, through one of the cells that had a broken door, a shuffling creature just like the one in the cell in front of him stepped out.

The creature before him stretched out its hand, moaning, desperately clawing the air for him. Its soulless eyes were black, reflecting the light of his sword. The tip of one of its bony fingers just barely brushed his tunic.

Link yelled and swung his sword down, slicing right through the arm with no resistance whatsoever. The appendage fell to the ground with a sickening sound, yet the creature was not even phased. It reached its other arm through, trying again to grasp Link, despite only having two fingers remaining on this hand.

The other shambling corpse made its way down the hall towards him, hands outstretched, mouth open wide. It lacked part of its side, revealing its rib cage.

Feeling nothing but terror, Link turned and ran. He passed other shambling corpses, all of which seemed to have awakened with the first one’s scream. As one stumbled out of a cell, opening its mouth wide to release its terrible shriek, he swung his sword, decapitating it. The body collapsed.

He heard more of the shrieks behind him and glanced back, horrified to see at least half a dozen of the creatures in the hall now, not counting the one he dispatched. He had passed so many of them on the way through the dungeon!

Finally, as he rounded another corner, he found a doorway that led up to a staircase. The old door remained, though it hung pitifully on a single rusty hinge. Link closed the door, wincing at the awful metallic screech it made as he did so. He found the old wooden bar used to secure the door lying next to it, and he slid the rotten wood into place, hoping that would stop the creatures from following him.

He turned and hurried up the stairs, emerging out of an old building onto a patch of grass inside the castle’s outer walls, very low on the mountain that the castle had been built upon. The castle towers rose far above him, their peaks shadowy in the night sky. Red haze settled down around him like a thin fog, leaving the air feeling hot and unpleasant to his lungs. The color seemed to have been drained of everything around him. The grass was ashen grey and the trees looked petrified, devoid of all leaves.

Everything is dead.

Setting his jaw and sparing one more glance for the shadowy door beneath, he slunk out onto the castle grounds, casting wary glances about for Guardians.

She became aware of his presence at the same time that the Calamity grew curious of the new being to enter the castle. It was not the first time a stranger made his way into the castle, and the Calamity was usually content to let them be. Looters did not concern it. But something about this new person intrigued it.

She was curious, too. She knew his presence. She knew this man. She… she knew that he shouldn’t be here.

Like a drowning woman coming up for air, Zelda’s consciousness—her identity—forced itself to the forefront of her mind. She watched with horror as Link crossed the castle grounds, narrowly avoiding detection by one of the roaming Guardians that patrolled the outer walls. She watched as he pressed his back to the wall as the Guardian walked above him, its cylindrical head spinning this way and that. She watched as he continued on once it passed, soon finding an entrance into the castle itself.

And she watched as Ganon grew close, its curiosity growing. She could feel its thoughts. Its wonder. Who is this boy, it wondered, that seems so familiar? He reminded it of…

Zelda slammed her power against Ganon, pushing it down. It raged against her, forgetting about the intruder as it pushed back. So strong. When had it become so strong? It was nearly enough to overwhelm her power—so much so that she had to pull her awareness away from everywhere else around her. She could no longer look at Link or even hope to speak to him, to warn him away—it took everything she had to form the seal of power that kept Ganon at bay. That kept it blinded.

It mustn’t know. It couldn’t find out.

Link slipped inside the dark corridor, pressing his back to the wall as he sidestepped the dark, reflective mass of Malice on the floor by his feet. He used his Ancient sword to push it back some—it reacted much like the Malice had on Medoh, pulling back slightly from the sword, though it did so more sluggishly. Once past this past, he sighed with relief and raised his sword, illuminating the corridor.

A thick coating of dust covered the entire floor, undisturbed for years. Perhaps this entrance was never used by the treasure hunters that Link heard about.  Ancient sconces lined the walls, their torches having long since puttered out. The wall was made of unadorned stone.

Servant’s entrance, he thought, frowning. So close to the dungeons, perhaps even a guard’s entrance. Continuing further down, he found that his second guess was right. He soon came to the ramshackle remains of an old soldier’s practice hall. It appeared to have been untouched for one hundred years, save for the Malice that coated much of things.

He stepped into the hall, and suddenly, he was back in the past. Sparring against other squires had been a popular way of releasing tension and settling arguments. He always won. No squire had been a match for Link’s skill with the sword, spear, or quarterstaff. Though some of the larger ones were quite adept at beating him in wrestling.

Those squires had been his friends once, though many of them refused to even speak to him after he pulled the Master Sword. Too intimidated, perhaps, or jealous of his sudden meteoric rise to importance.

I never wanted to be so important, he thought, frowning. Not truly.

It didn’t matter now, of course. That was over a century ago. He became important. Destined. The Hero. And those squires were all dead.

Link pressed on into the bowels of the castle. Malice only grew thicker as he continued. In places, it dripped from the ceiling in large globs or formed solid black pillars. He found entire hallways blocked off by large masses. He brushed against it multiple times, and each encounter left his exposed flesh red and inflamed.

The castle was like a maze, and despite his limited memories, he found himself getting turned around in its winding halls. Several sections were either so completely covered by Malice or outright collapsed that he had to find alternate paths. His Sheikah Slate provided him no help either—it showed that he was in the castle, but nothing else.

He found a series of rooms that had been ransacked. These must have been servants’ quarters—they had no windows and were small. He found dressers with the drawers pulled out, all clothing removed. Chests that had been broken open. This part of the castle had been visited by the treasure hunters looking for valuables, so there must have been another entrance nearby—he didn’t think that they had come in the same way he did.

He stepped into another hallway and came face to face with a Guardian Scout.

Swearing, Link ducked back around the corner just as it fired off a shot that would have taken him in the face. He waited for it to approach, its legs making clicking sounds on the stone floor. When it reached him, he thrust out his sword, plunging its blue blade into its eye.

The effect was instantaneous. Its red lights began to flicker, and Link could have sworn that he saw a cloud of Malice erupt out of its body. He ran back down the hall, knowing what would come next. Behind him, the diminutive Guardian exploded, sending shrapnel flying in every direction.

The castle rumbled under his feet. Link pressed his hand to the wall to steady himself as the ground shook. Ganon. Echoing down the halls, he thought that he could hear a distant roar.

The shaking subsided. The roar faded. The hall grew silent again, save for the soft humming of his sword. He stepped forward, looking down at the remains of the Guardian, similar to those he had encountered in the shrines. It had glowed red, corrupted by Ganon’s power, just as Robbie said.

I shouldn’t be here, he thought, nudging one of the Guardian’s legs with his foot. This was a mistake. Yet…

He pushed aside his doubts and set his jaw. He had to save her.

Ganon roared, and Zelda fought. Hylia, give me strength! Though her power was immense, Ganon’s power was, in many ways, her equal. Her power was that of a goddess—eternal and unchanging. Ganon’s was one formed of rage and malice, and it grew in strength as its hatred grew.

And Zelda was tired. She was so tired. Her power had been once far greater, but her spirit had been flayed after a century of battle against this creature of Demise. Her mind, a tattered shadow of what it once was. How often had she thought of giving up? How many times had she nearly accepted death at this creature’s hands?

No.

No, she would not give in now. Not after so long. Not now that they were so close!

Ganon pressed against her, its power like a thousand knives that stabbed at her very soul. Zelda screamed, but she did not give in. She did not give up. She was the incarnation of a goddess. No, she was a goddess. She was Hylia. She pressed Ganon’s power down, into the depths beneath the mountain. She silenced its roar. She broke the threads that would allow it to see into the castle. She blinded it. She rendered it powerless. And she prayed. She prayed that Link would leave. For not even a goddess could hold out forever.

Link ran his sword into the black eye that watched him, and it died, shriveling and puffing away. As it did, some of the Malice that obscured the hallway retreated, leaving Link a path through. He stepped through, entering into a grand dining hall. Many of the tables were broken, their legs collapsing due to the rotting brought on by Malice.

The walls were covered with the tattered remains of old tapestries. Reliefs had been carved into the walls—depictions of the Goddess Hylia, of heroic battles, and royal victories. Yet even the stone seemed more worn down than it should have been after one hundred years.

He could remember what the hall had once looked like, though. Beautiful banners, noblemen and women seated at the tables, and the royal family seated at the head table. Link sat there with them the night that he saved Princess Zelda’s life from the Guardian. After that, he more often stood behind the princess as she ate.

She didn’t often eat here, though, he thought, reaching out and placing a hand against the remains of the head table. She avoided it when she could. Preferred to have servants bring her meals to her chambers.

He could remember. Her father hadn’t objected to her desire to remain out of sight.

Link turned, preparing to leave the dining hall, when something new caught his eye. Upon the wall behind the royal table, between reliefs of the goddesses, was a shield. Painted blue and bearing the royal sigil of a red bird with outstretched wings beneath a golden trio of triangles joined at the corners to form a larger triangle, it stood out. It appeared to be the only object in the room untouched by Ganon’s corruptive influence.

Carefully, Link climbed atop the massive hearth and reached up to the shield. It came free easily, its wooden mounting crumbling. He climbed back down and turned the shield over in his hands.

Untainted. No rust. Other metal I’ve seen has been rusted over—why is this any different?

The leather strap on its back bore the signs of age, but it was still functional as Link slipped it on over his right arm. He moved his arm around and found that he liked the feel of the shield. It was light-weight, despite its size, and fit Link’s arm without any adjustments to the strap needed. Link left the dining hall with the shield a comfortable weight on his arm.

The hall he emerged into bore the remains of an old, red carpet. Old paintings lined the walls, each too faded or destroyed to make out its contents. It was… familiar to him. If he closed his eyes to the destruction and pools of Malice, he could almost see what the hall once looked like, resplendent in its beauty.

As the castle rumbled around him again, he was brought back out of his reverie. The memories were hard to ignore here, but he had no choice. This was far more dangerous than even the Divine Beasts. Ganon was here.

He continued, making his way down the hall. As he did so, he passed by several rooms, though they were larger and more widely spread out here than they were in the servants’ hallways. Empty windows lined the opposite walls, their glass having long broken. A glance outside sent shivers down Link’s spine. Guardians, of both the walking and flying varieties, patrolled all over the castle grounds just outside of this hall, barely visible save for their red lights and glowing blue eyes. If any one of them saw him, he would die.

Once more, he wondered if he should just leave—use the Sheikah Slate to teleport away—but he dismissed it. That was the coward’s way out. He had a duty, and he would see it complete. Even if it meant facing the cold fingers of death once again.

He moved away from the windows and deactivated his sword, fearing that its light would give him away. This plunged the hall into darkness, and Link waited, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before continuing.

As he continued through the dark hall, he soon came to another chamber, easily as large, if not larger, than the dining hall. Link stepped through the large doorway, out onto a balcony. He was on the third level of a massive room with an arched ceiling and what appeared to be shelves lining the walls.

Looking warily around first for any threats, Link reactivated his sword and carefully made his way down to the second level, walking towards the shelves. He lifted his sword, using its light to illuminate their contents.

Books. Rows and rows of books. Many of them were destroyed beyond recognition, their spines crumbling, yet others remained, still standing upright, despite the century of neglect.

It was a library. A royal library, full of thousands of texts. Full of history, science, philosophy, religion, and wonder. Link reached up, gently running his finger along the spine of one particularly thick tome. He couldn’t read the letters on the spine.

“Such a wealth of knowledge, and yet nothing of use.”

He turned and saw her. Princess Zelda. Staring at a tall shelf with her hands on her hips, glaring at the bookshelf, as if daring it to produce for her the exact tome needed. It was late. Far past the time that it would have been particularly appropriate for them to be in the library, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t been able to sleep.

So she insisted he come with her to the library. He didn’t really know why. She didn’t carry a torch, nor did she even have her Sheikah Slate, which she used for light some nights when out in the wild with him. Moonlight streamed into the library through several windows, but it was hardly appropriate to read by. Perhaps she wanted to find a book and take it back to her room?

“Princess?”

She reached out, taking a book and opening to its first page. She bent low, squinting at the words upon it. Finally, she snapped it back closed and carefully placed it back on the shelf. Her hand lingered upon it for a time.

“I fear that there is no book in existence that will help me with my powers.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, still staring at the shadowy books. “It seems absurd, doesn’t it? Millions—perhaps billions—of books have been written throughout history. Surely one of them was written to detail the process of awakening the royal families’ abilities. Did they truly expect all princesses to just… understand?”

He frowned. Of course, he should not have been surprised that the summer festivities would cause such dark thoughts. He wondered what he could say—what kind of comfort could he offer?

“Perhaps… perhaps they all understood that the powers would awaken only when the time was right?”

She looked at him then, her expression difficult to read in the darkness. “My mother had the power. She didn’t… need it, yet she had it. As did my grandmother. Yet I…”

She stepped back from the bookshelf until she leaned back against the banister, looking up towards the windows overhead. “When you pulled the Master Sword, did you… know? Did you know that it would come free?”

“No.”

“Then why did you even try?”

“I…”

She faded. The moonlight faded. Malice covered most of the windows, except for one spot further down into the room where part of the roof had collapsed. He removed his hand from the spine of the book, shuddering. Then he grabbed the book off the shelf, turning and throwing it. It fell to the first level, landing with a heavy thud.

Link’s hands dropped to his side, and he lowered his head. “What am I doing here?”

It was futile. He couldn’t defeat Ganon. Not now. Not without the sword. Not without the final Divine Beast. He couldn’t save her. She would remain trapped in this castle with the beast with no way out.

“Princess, can you hear me?”

He received no answer. Even this close, she still would not or could not answer him. He wished he could speak to her again, just to hear her voice. Just to know that she was all right.

Please go, Link, Zelda silently begged. Her power strained, stretched to its limit. And she knew that Ganon had been able to catch glimpses of Link. It didn’t know yet—it didn’t recognize the man. Perhaps it wouldn’t, without the Master Sword upon Link’s back.

But Ganon was suspicious. Why did she fight against it so strong now? Why did she work so hard to ensure its Guardians did not venture close to this stranger? Why did she seek to blind it so completely?

The Calamity was no longer a creature of reason and rational. Its mind had long since broken far more completely than Zelda’s. Yet even it occasionally had moments of clarity, just as she did. If it realized who the intruder was, the result could be disastrous.

She needed to tell Link to leave, but she knew that the moment she did, Ganon would know. It would see Link for who he truly was. She feared that its rage would be so great, that even Hylia would be powerless to stop it.

Ganon pressed again, and she countered. It attacked, and she blocked. She enfolded it within her power, trying her best to shut it out, yet it constantly pierced her, trying to escape. Trying to see.

Who is he? Ganon rumbled. She slammed it back down with her power, trying rend its mind. But this time, Ganon did not roar. It wondered. And Zelda feared that it would soon be too late.

Link found the hallway that he had hoped to find. Ever since he’d caught glimpses of memory—of walking a darkened hall behind the princess in the direction of the library. The trek deeper into Hyrule Castle took him up more flights of stairs, higher and higher. He knew that he was just a short distance away from the sanctum now, where the Champion’s ceremony had been held in his memory.

Somehow, he knew what he would find there.

But that wasn’t what he searched for now. Not yet. Instead, he made his way around the back of the castle, using more servants’ passages. The main hall was destroyed, forcing Link to find an alternate route. But he eventually came out into another carpeted hall.

He made his way through the hall, keeping an eye out for any signs of the smaller Guardian Scouts. He had encountered more than one on his trip through the castle, each dispatched as the first had been. Nothing moved in this hall, however, except for the slightly pulsating Malice.

He found the door not long after emerging into this hall. It was the opposite side of the castle from the library, not actually that far from where he originally entered the castle, though far higher up.

One of the thick double doors to Princess Zelda’s room lay on the ground, coated with dust and a fair amount of Malice. The other hung by a single rusty hinge, ready to fall at any time. Link hesitated as he looked into the dark room. Would she be in there?

He gripped his sword tightly and stepped into the princess’s room.

Zelda screamed. She screamed, and she fought. She could no longer completely blind it, so she tried to redirect it. To give it the ability to see other things, but not Link. Anything but Link.

But the Calamity knew that she was hiding something important from it. It knew, and it suspected. The Calamity pushed again. Pierced her. Her power weakened.

Memories blossomed in Link’s mind as he shined his sword around the room. Her bed—a massive four-poster bed draped with white curtains—lay broken and collapsed, its hangings long since removed. Her small table was broken, and the chair’s upholstery had been cut away—he could remember her sitting in that chair at that table, drinking a cup of tea. Her dresser drawers had been opened, their contents removed. Her dressing curtain lay on its side, trampled upon and broken. Her mirror was gone. Her desk, always so neat, was in a state of disarray, loose pages strewn about and shredded.

Treasure hunters had found this room, and they had destroyed it.

Link’s throat tightened as he gazed around, taking in the pitiful sight. It broke his heart to see the room so completely destroyed. It felt like a far greater crime than anything else that he had seen since entering.

She deserves better. All the other inhabitants of the castle are dead, but not her. She’s still alive.

He stepped through the room and approached the opposite side, where a stone staircase rounded a pillar up to the upper level. Feeling a strange apprehension, Link hesitantly climbed the stairs. He emerged in another, smaller room with a hole in its center to accommodate the staircase.

On one side of the room was a door that appeared to once have led back into the castle, but now the hall beyond lay collapsed. The other side also held a door—this one led outside onto a bridge that crossed to a stone tower.

He knew that bridge. He knew that tower. He knew this place.

He stepped outside onto the bridge, looking warily for Guardians. He could see one of the fliers nearby, but it was flying away from him. As he crossed the bridge, he looked around, recognizing where he was even better. He could see the courtyard below—the courtyard where he’d saved the princess from the Guardian and where he’d spoken to Daruk following the Champion’s ceremony. But more importantly, the tower.

The door to the tower was open, and Link could already see that the room within had been ransacked. Yet while the room was in disarray, he didn’t think much had actually been taken. What interest did treasure hunters have in a scientist’s notes and sketches?

Princess Zelda’s study was a testament to the woman’s passions. A large desk sat on one side of the hexagonal room, covered in scattered pages and several books. Every wall but the one with the entrance had multiple shelves.

While much of the shelves’ contents had been disturbed, much remained. More sketches, more books, as well as models made with painstaking detail. Pieces of Guardians. Pieces of Sheikah tech. Other things too—one shelf contained a board with several different types of butterflies preserved upon it. Another had a telescope just like the ones that Purah and Robbie had, only much smaller.

He could remember this room from before. He could remember leaning against a wall, smiling slightly as the princess spoke excitedly about a new discovery she’d made, or a theory that Purah told her about. Elsewhere, she was burdened by her future, but here, she was happy. She found joy in her study, in inspecting the Sheikah Slate, in researching ancient Sheikah texts to learn more about the Divine Beasts.

She knew everything about them, Link thought as he looked up at an expertly sketched depiction of Divine Beast Vah Ruta. She must have coated it with some kind of sealing agent, because the sketch remained clear, even one hundred years later.

As he looked around the room in wonder, his eyes fell on something out of place. Something that he didn’t recognize from before. A flower.

A simple, yet beautiful flower. Five petals, each blue nearer the stem, but white at their edges. It sat on the floor, surrounded by dirt. It looked as though it had once been in a pot, but the pot had been smashed. Somehow, the flower survived, though, growing tall from the mound of dirt left behind.

He knelt by the simple flower, setting his shield down and reaching out, gently touching its soft petal. It seemed so familiar to him. He knew this flower, yet… he couldn’t place it. He couldn’t remember it.

How did it grow here? Link thought. Everything else around the castle is dead. The grass, the plants, the trees. This shouldn’t have been able to survive, yet… it has.

The ground rumbled underneath him again, and he stood up. His time was short. He turned to the desk, looking over it. He didn’t know why, but…

He saw it. A small book, bound in leather. It bore no title upon the spine. He pulled the leather cover back and saw a name written on the first page in neat, swooping hand-writing. Zelda Hyrule. He turned to a page within, seeing more of her handwriting.

“Today, I met with Impa of the Sheikah tribe and began my research into the ancient technology in earnest.”

He didn’t read it all, flipping several pages.

“We did it. We were finally able to restore some functionality to the Sheikah Slate. We have discovered that this stone slate is capable of producing...images. Perfect likenesses of the things you point it at. Unlike normal pictures drawn by hand, this requires no artist to capture anything in perfect detail.”

Smiling, Link thought of how excited she must have been to make such a discovery. She’d certainly taken a lot of photographs with the Sheikah Slate after doing so. He flipped to another page, and his smile faded.

“I spoke with Purah about the Shrine of Resurrection we discovered earlier. As we speculated, this particular shrine is, in fact, a medical facility with the power to heal. It also has a long-term stasis function that can be activated and maintained until healing is complete. In the war against the Calamity ten thousand years ago, were the injuries so great as to necessitate such a facility? If so, I will remain uneasy until we have made all adjustments necessary to restore it to full working order. I can only pray that even if Calamity Ganon returns, our battle will not require the Shrine of Resurrection's power.”

Link let the journal close, exhaling slowly. “I wish we didn’t have to learn just how necessary it would be,” he said, softly. After another moment’s hesitation, he picked up the journal and tucked it into his pocket. He was about to turn when another, similar book caught his eye.

This one had been in a drawer, which now sat open. The book had clearly been rifled through but was ultimately left by whomever had been here before. Several of its pages were loose, scattered in the drawer. He shined his sword over the book, reaching to grab it, when a word on one of the pages caught his eye. His name.

He picked up the page, holding it up to his light to read.

“His name is Link. He’s the son of Arn, my father’s guard. I’ve seen him around before, of course, but I cannot recall ever speaking to him before yesterday. But now, what can I do? He has the sword. It’s just as the prophecy said—the signs of Calamity Ganon’s return are becoming clearer and clearer and now the Master Sword has chosen its bearer. I have dreaded this day for my entire life. Does he even know what events he has set into motion? Does he know the burden upon his back? Will he be crushed be it, as I often feel it crushes me? Likely not. He, after all, has already completed the first step of his calling. He probably thinks that the rest of his destiny will be as easy as drawing the Master Sword was. Father has already spoken of knighting him.

“Meanwhile, I continue to seek my destiny. Father insisted I increase the amount of time I devote to prayer—as if I don’t already spend more time in prayer than any priest I have ever known! He is right, of course, though I loathe such an admission. I must awaken my sealing power before it is too late.”

Why do you hide him so? Ganon said to her. Zelda tried to ignore its vile voice. It rarely spoke to her—its mind was far too fragile for conscious thought more often than not. Yet now, at the worst of times, it was lucid and aware of its surroundings.

She slammed it with her power again, but it retaliated with a spear of Malice, opening a window out into the world through which it could peer. She tried to close it, to blind the foul creature again.

He seems so familiar, Ganon mused, sounding saner than it had in decades. Why is that?

Please go, Zelda begged, though she didn’t know if it was directed towards Link or the Calamity. She was tired. She was so tired. The Calamity must have been as well, she knew, but it had the advantage. Zelda spread her power so thin to prevent it from engaging with anything outside of this realm, but it could gather itself and consolidate its power in one place.

No… This is not an ordinary person, is it? Zelda felt something building. She could feel it gathering its power, preparing another assault. And then it happened—pain flared through her mind and soul, nearly tearing her mind to shreds and leaving her with nothing but the power. She barely maintained self-awareness, but she could not stop Ganon from seeing.

And this time, it understood.

The castle shook violently beneath Link’s feet, and he stumbled, grasping the desk for support. Overhead, he heard a roar—a terrible sound that penetrated his very being and left him cold inside. The Calamity. He grabbed the second book, shoving it into his pocket, and ran to the door, looking up.

Outside, the haze gathered and formed a great, shadowy figure in the sky above the castle. Calamity Ganon rose, nearly as large as the castle itself, into the sky, circling. Two eyes shone yellow above its terrible maw. And those eyes looked down upon Link. They saw Link. Ganon roared again and flew down, opening its maw. The tower trembled and parts of the stone bridge fell away. He held his sword and shield, yet what could he do? They seemed such pitiful weapons against such an entity.

And suddenly, with a burst of white light, she was there.

Resplendent in her white dress and shining with the light of day, Princess Zelda stood before him. She raised a hand to the beast, fixing her eyes upon it with an expression of determination. The beast roared in fury, yet it stopped, its form breaking apart once again, the red haze sinking back down to the castle.

But though it was gone, the castle still shook. He could still hear its terrible roar echoing through its halls. This was far from over.

“What do I do?” he asked, looking at the princess. She looked more like a goddess than a real person, even though he recognized the white dress she wore as the same one from the Spring of Power.

She turned to him. He saw pain in her eyes. And fury. “You fool! Why did you come here? Do you have any idea what you have done?”

He stumbled back, eyes widening. Even the princess seemed surprised, as her expression showed a hint of regret. When she spoke again, it was quieter, though her words still held hardness. “It knows that you’re alive. Don’t you understand? All this time, it thought you were dead, but now it knows. It’s already so close to breaking free—I fear what this knowledge will do to its resolve.”

“Princess, I…” Link faltered, staring into her eyes. What could he say? “I came to free you. As I have the other Champions and Divine Beasts. I thought that I…” He trailed off. What a fool he had been. Overwhelmed by the emotions of his memories, he’d acted so brazenly. Stupidly. He didn’t have a plan or backup. He hadn’t even told Impa where he was going!

“Free me? Free me?” She had a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Oh, Link. I am not a prisoner in this place. It is. I hold it captive, just as I have done for the last one hundred years.”

His heart sank. Even his intentions had been backwards. He’d thought to save her, yet she didn’t need saving. She just needed him to complete his mission. And he had been so close to doing just that.

She looked at him, and he saw pity there, yet there was something else. Compassion. “I know.” She stepped forward and reached out, placing one of her hands against his cheek. He could feel the palm of her hand, warm and soft, as real as any other. Not a spirit. “You could never bear to think of me in danger. Even after everything that has happened, you haven’t changed.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought that I could somehow… get you out of this place. That we could complete this together.”

“We are,” she said, pulling her hand away and stepping back. “And we will. But, Link, you need to go. The Guardians—they’re coming. I couldn’t keep Ganon from taking control of them again—it’s all I can do to even keep it from breaking completely free now. You need to leave.”

“Princess—”

“Zelda. There are no titles between us.”

“Zelda.”

A faint smile passed over her lips, and she nodded. Then she turned, and the golden halo of light around her increased in intensity.

“Go, Link. I will do what I can, but it is… Its rage is very great. You are not supposed to be alive—your being here means that it can still be defeated.” She looked at him, and her forehead was creased in concentration. “Free Urbosa—all four Divine Beasts will be needed in the coming battle. And get the Master Sword.”

Link began to move, leaving the tower and walking out onto the bridge to stand beside the princess. Zelda. “Where is the sword?”

She looked at him, confused. And then a look of understanding passed over her face. “Where it has always been, Link. Where you pulled it free the first time—to the north, in the heart of the forest.”

A Guardian climbed into view beneath them and rose up on its legs, looking up at them with its pulsating blue eye. It fired, and Zelda reached out her hand. The lance of energy splashed against a barrier of light, dissipating harmlessly. Link saw her flinch, however.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.

“I know you will.” She looked at him one last time, meeting his eyes.

He turned and ran.

Down the spiral staircase, into Zelda’s old room. Out into the hall. Overhead, Ganon roared in fury, and dust and pieces of stone rained down on Link’s head as he sprinted down the hall.

One of the smaller Guardians stepped into view, and Link raised his shield just in time. The Guardian’s blast ricocheted off of the shield, striking the wall and leaving a small crater. Link thrust his sword into its eye as he passed.

 As he ran down the hall, he heard sounds from outside. Sounds of Guardian fire striking the castle and of multi-legged machines crawling around the side of the castle. He passed by a window and saw a blue eye peering in at him. It fired, and the hallway behind him was engulfed in flames.

He turned down another hall, away from the exterior windows of the castle, so that the only light came from his sword as he ran. He stepped into a puddle of Malice, which sucked at his boot and nearly sent him sprawling onto the floor. He ripped the boot free of the pool, but the hall was filled with an acrid, burnt smell. His boot felt strange, as if the Malice had eaten through part of its sole.

Link turned down another hallway, only to find it blocked by a collapsed section. He turned and ran down another length of hall, finding a staircase that led him down. Behind him, he heard the sounds of skittering legs—more of the Guardian Scouts searching for him.

He burst into a large room with a massive vaulted ceiling overhead. The library! He was on the ground floor. And he wasn’t alone. Three of the Guardian Scouts were in the room, each wielding a different weapon.

Link swore and leaped back as the first of the Guardians charged at him, thrusting a spear at his heart. The next came at him from the side with an axe, which he deflected with his shield. Before he could retaliate, however, the third Guardian’s eye flashed. Link was forced to run as it fired small lances of energy at him. He threw himself behind an overturned table. The table exploded, sending burning shrapnel in all directions.

The second Guardian came again, swinging its axe in wide motions, but Link deflected it and thrust his sword in, scoring a direct hit. And then he felt the spear cut his side, searing the flesh under his tunic. He cried out in pain.

He spun, slamming his sword into the spear haft, knocking it to the ground. He saw the third Guardian preparing to fire again and lunged forward, ducking behind the Guardian in front of him. The blasts struck it just as the axe-wielding Guardian exploded.

The explosion blew him back, and he struck the floor, rolling. The light of his sword went out as part of it snapped off. He stood back up and threw the broken sword away, getting his shield out in front of him just in time to deflect another of the lances of energy, which shot off to the side.

The Guardian prepared to fire again, and Link waited. The eye flashed white, and he swung his shield. This time, he struck the blast just as it reached him, sending it back towards its source. It struck the Guardian Scout right in the eye, causing its lights to flicker madly before it burst, leaving him in darkness.

Link breathed heavily, reaching a hand down to his side, where the spear had cut him. He was bleeding, but it wasn’t too bad. He needed to keep going, but without his sword, he had no light source. Maybe one of the fallen Guardians’ weapons—

Suddenly, pieces of wood and debris began to fall from above. He looked up to see the hole in the roof had grown in size as two massive Guardian arms peeled the wood back. His eyes widened, and he ran. Behind him, he heard a crash as the Guardian fell into the library. It fired at him a second later, and the blast passed just overhead, slamming into the stairway that led up to the exit. Part of the stone stairwell collapsed, but he leaped over the broken section, taking the stairs three at a time.

The Guardian advanced through the library, its claws ripping up the tile flooring as it crossed towards him. Its blue eye followed Link as he climbed the stairs, preparing another blast of energy. It fired again as he reached the top floor, striking the balcony. The explosion sent him careening into the hallway beyond. He rolled to his feet and continued into the darkness.

Without the light of his sword, Link could do little more than run with his hands outstretched. He cried out in pain each time his hands plunged into a pool of Malice, but he couldn’t stop.

More Guardian Scouts emerged into the hall in front of him, their lights suddenly bright in the dark hallway. At least four of them piled out into the hallway. Link kept running and vaulted over them, just as two of them fired. One of the blasts hit his shoulder, slamming him into the wall, but he kept going.

He turned down another side passage, and suddenly, there was no floor beneath him. He fell down the staircase, landing at the bottom in a heap. His vision swam, and he groaned, looking up as the Guardians filled the narrow passage. The narrow confines and the stairs slowed them, but they would be on him in moments.

He heaved himself back to his feet and stumbled down the hall, feeling dazed. He must have hit his head when falling down the stairs. One of his ankles hurt terribly too—twisted. But adrenaline kept him moving until, finally, he burst out onto the castle grounds through a hole in a wall.

The moon shone overhead, and everything was bathed in a red hue. Malice haze swirled around Link as he stumbled forward towards… where? He was near the back of the castle—there was no way down from here. Just a sheer cliff into the moat, far below.

He turned and saw the Guardians coming. Dozens of them. They poured out of the castle through windows and doorways, they flew through the air, and they climbed over spires and walls. Blue eyes, all focused on Link, preparing to fire.

He wavered, vision fuzzing, strength fading, as he stared at his doom. And then a thought occurred to him. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? In the haste and confusion, he hadn’t even considered it. With trembling hands, Link pulled the Sheikah Slate from his belt, activating the map and finding the nearest Sheikah Shrine. He looked up at the oncoming Guardians as they prepared to fire, their eyes flashing.

Nothing happened.

No! He stared down at the Sheikah Slate with disbelieving eyes. He pressed it again, but still nothing happened. He couldn’t teleport away. He was trapped.

He looked up again and raised his shield, but it was too late. The nearest Guardian’s lance of energy took him in the chest, sending him over the edge of the cliff. The Sheikah Slate spun away from him. He watched it disappear into the night with despair, even as he felt his own death approaching. He crashed down into the river below the castle.

Everything went black.

END OF PART TWO

Chapter Text

Side Quests II

I

Sidon swam through the river west of Zora’s Domain, the Lightscale trident held tightly in his hand. His scouts informed him that the lizalfos had definitely swam this way following the most recent clash between them, continuing west instead of south into the Hylia River, as they usually did. Another tribe of lizalfos, then? Or had they relocated their lair?

“Sidon, how much further are you wanting to go?” Bazz asked, swimming up beside him.

Sidon paused in the water, looking around. It was beginning to grow fouler here, tainted by the bad air and ground around Hyrule Castle. Though the water was safe enough to swim through, it tasted wrong and remaining too long near the castle could result in illness.

“I want to find out where they are attacking us from,” Sidon said. He kicked his feet and rose to the surface, looking at the position of the sun. It was getting late, but there were still another few hours of daylight. “Another hour, and we’ll head back.”

Gaddison’s head emerged from the depths, her lavender skin distinct as always. She looked between Sidon and Bazz and made a face. “The water tastes like the lizalfos all decided to take a pi—”

Rivan burst out of the water, sending a spray of water into Gaddison’s face, who spluttered and glared at him. “We’re getting kind of far from the others, aren’t we?”

“We’ll be all right,” Sidon said, grinning. “It’s just a few lizalfos. Come on!”

He dove back under the water, and the rest of his guard followed, swimming in a diamond formation with their prince at its head. As they approached the castle moat, the water grew murkier and fouler. When they passed the dark shape of a long-submerged Guardian, covered in algae, Sidon swam up to the surface again.

His head broke the surface, and he looked around for any signs of the lizalfos on the nearby bank. The other Zora in his company emerged as well, spreading out and looking for any indication of their quarry.

“I don’t know, Sidon,” Gaddison said, swimming up to him. “I think we lost them today. Maybe the scouts were wrong. We haven’t even seen as much as a scale since the rivers split.”

Sidon sighed and nodded. “You might be right. If they did come this way, then they’re further up the river than I want to go today.”

“Is that normal?” Rivan asked, pointing.

Sidon turned around, looking up at the tall Hyrule Castle. Guardians swarmed over the castle like a knot of freshly hatched tadpoles, angrily firing their strange energy blasts off into the air or at structures around the castle grounds. As Sidon watched, several of the Guardians destroyed a section of wall, sending ancient bricks down into the moat not that far from where Sidon and his three guards swam.

One of the flying Guardians came around castle, flying over the moat in their direction. Sidon motioned, and all four of the Zora sank beneath the surface as the Guardian passed overhead, shining a red light on the surface of the water. It paused overhead for a few seconds and then continued on.

“Maybe we should get back,” Bazz suggested, but Sidon shook his head.

“In a few minutes. Come on, I want to observe some more.”

He ignored the exasperated looks his friends exchanged, swimming closer to the castle. The Guardians were acting strange. True, he didn’t often swim this close to the castle, but when he’d been here before, they always seemed more passive than this. He’d certainly never seen them attacking the remaining structures before.

He swam closer, partially emerging from the water again when he thought that none of the Guardians would see him. They were agitated, for sure. And they weren’t confined to just the castle, either. Some of the flying Guardians were on the other side of the river, flying over the steep inclines and groves of trees.

“They’re looking for something,” he said, after a few more minutes of observation. “I wonder what?”

Rivan emerged from the water next to him. “Sidon, look at this.”

He glanced over, and his eyes widened. He reached out and snatched the object from Rivan’s hands, turning the small rectangular device over in his hands. The Sheikah Slate. Just like the one that Link had.

Worry burrowed its way into Sidon’s thoughts. Why would Link’s Sheikah Slate be here, in the moat surrounding the castle? And why were the Guardians so agitated? What were they searching for?

“Underwater, now. Look for anything else out of the ordinary.”

They searched for another hour, scouring the bottom of the river and circling most of the castle, trying to find any other clues for what happened here. Ultimately, they came up with nothing.

“What should we do now?” Bazz asked, swimming up to Sidon.

Sidon gazed down at the Sheikah Slate. Could there be another Sheikah Slate just like Link’s? It was certainly possible, but he worried for his friend. Finally, he looked up at Bazz. “Come on. Let’s get back. I’m worried something terrible has happened.”

II

Death Mountain rumbled dangerously, causing a number of boulders to break free of the volcano and sending them rolling down its slope. Yunobo watched as the boulders fell out of sight into one of the many streams of magma around the mountain’s base.

“Hmm,” Daruk said, looking up at the peak. “Reminds me of just before Ganon appeared the first time.”

Yunobo looked at his grandfather, who stood on Rudania’s back, shining with ghostly green light. “What do you think it means?”

“Might be nothing.” Daruk looked down at Yunobo. “Sometimes the mountain just makes some noise. But after erupting for so long because of Rudania, you’d think that he’d be ready to sleep for a while.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird,” Yunobo said thoughtfully. “Death Mountain has been quiet since Link left.”

Daruk nodded slowly and then looked back towards Rudania’s head. The damage caused by Link’s attack had been mostly fixed. At least the fin had been moved back into place, though the stone and metal there still bore the cracks from their battle. It worked, however, and that was the most important thing.

“I get the feelin’ that the end is coming up pretty quick, Yunobo.” Daruk looked back at him. “You got to make sure you’re ready. Me and Rudania, we’re going to do what we can to take on Ganon, but you’ve gotta protect everyone else that you can.”

Hearing that sent a thrill of fear through Yunobo’s heart, but he stood tall. He’d been getting better at facing his fears lately—he even beat up a moblin that wandered too close to him the other day. Granted, he did so by throwing stones at it until it ran away, but it was a start, at least.

“So, what brought you up here today?” Daruk asked after a few more moments of silence. Death Mountain calmed now, silent once again.

“Well, I came to tell you that I was going to be leaving Goron City for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, you know how Link came by a few weeks ago and asked the Boss if he could send some Gorons to help build up some defenses around that Hylian town?”

“Yep.”

“Well, we were waiting for the wild dodongo thing to get under control before sending anyone. But now that they’ve been all rounded up, the Boss is getting around to sending some Gorons. I, uh… I told him that I would go, too.”

Daruk raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “But aren’t there a lot of monsters there?”

“Well, yeah,” Yunobo said, his pitch rising slightly. “But I don’t think we’re going to be fighting them. Besides, I figure… if Link thought it was important enough to come here and ask for help, then I should help… You know?”

Daruk laughed and brought his hand forward to slap Yunobo on the back, though the hand ended up just passing through Yunobo’s back and out his chest, leaving a line of cold in its wake.

“Whoops, sorry,” Daruk said, looking embarrassed. “But that’s great, big guy!”

Yunobo grinned shyly at the praise. “I just thought about what you would do. I knew you wouldn’t let him down, and that I shouldn’t either.”

Daruk’s expression grew warm, and he placed his hand on Yunobo’s shoulder—it felt almost solid this time. “You’re doing great, son. I’m proud of you.”

Yunobo’s heart swelled as he met Daruk’s eyes.

III

The damn idiot, Teba thought as he flew above Hyrule Castle, his keen eyes searching the land around it. It had been five days since the Sheikah man showed up to inform them that Link had gone missing. Two days since the man showed up again to tell them that his Sheikah Slate had been found near the castle.

Seven days in total since Link disappeared.

Why did he go to the castle like that? Without any backup, too!

But Teba knew. Deep down, Teba knew exactly why Link went to the castle, even without Kass’ lofty speculations. He did it for the same reason that Teba was ready to fly back into battle with Medoh, regardless of the likelihood of his success. Link wanted to protect his family.

Since finding out about Link’s absence, both Teba and Kass searched for Link, often taking turns flying out to the castle and surrounding areas and searching for any sign of him. Teba recruited a few other Rito to stretch their patrols out further to the north and south. So far, even after several days of searching, they hadn’t even found as much as a footprint.

The Guardians were searching too. Far below him, one of the six-legged beasts tromped through a grove of trees, knocking over several of them as it looked for its prey. That’s good, Teba thought. If they’re searching too, then it means that they haven’t found him. He might still be alive.

That hope, however, was tenuous at best. There were only so many places that Link could have escaped from, assuming he fell into the river. True, he might have been swept further downriver, but both Rito and Zora searched in that direction as well without any success. It was like the man just disappeared into thin air.

Or, more likely, he’s just lying dead somewhere. Maybe he floated down the river.

It was an uncomfortable thought. Kass reprimanded him when he first brought it up, but Teba could tell that Kass was worried, too. With things at the castle getting seemingly worse, the Sheikah Slate found at the bottom of the river, and Link still missing, despite nearly constant searching, the possibility that he had been killed was all too real.

Kass still insisted that they hope for the best, however. He insisted that Link had faced worse in the past, and that he would likely turn up soon, having accomplished something else spectacular. And Teba supposed that he agreed with Kass to a degree. Link was far more capable than Teba initially gave him credit for.

Below, Teba saw one of the Guardians firing at someone that had wandered too close to the search area. He focused, straining his eyes to see who the person was. It wasn’t Link, however, but another man. The man seemed capable enough, avoiding the Guardian fire while firing back with arrows that didn’t seem to do much damage.

Teba watched for a time, admiring the man’s tenacity, but it was clear that he was outmatched and unprepared to face the Guardian. Sighing, Teba angled himself into a dive and folded his wings against his body. He still had some explosive-tipped arrows—might as well put them to good use.

IV

Makeela Riju stood atop a tall sand dune, looking out across the desert with a spyglass, observing the distant sandstorm. Lightning flashed within the swirling wall of dust and debris, briefly silhouetting the great four-legged beast within. It was far enough away that she didn’t feel the effects of the sandstorm, but that could change at any time.

The Divine Beast had been raging for weeks now. While it had always been out there, secluded somewhere deep in the desert, it never bothered the Gerudo people. For most, its presence was little more than the stuff of legend—wandering tribes would occasionally claim to have seen the great mechanical beast, but never could figure out how to get back to it. Anyone who got too close claimed that they were rebuffed by a sandstorm.

She always thought that the tales were just that—tales spread about by the nomadic desert tribes. They had plenty of them, after all. Stories of great skeletons shading a beautiful oasis, of an enormous stone maze with no way to its center, and of an eighth heroine statue somewhere to the north. Perhaps some of them were true, but she had her doubts, just as she’d doubted that the Divine Beast Vah Naboris still inhabited her desert somewhere.

Now, however, she found proof for at least one of their stories. Naboris had awakened and began ravaging the land almost immediately. Riju knew of a dozen tribes that had encountered the machine, forced to flee before her sandstorms and lightning. How many more had been unable to get away at all?

It bothered Riju. She was not the desert nomads’ chieftain. No, they chose to live apart from the Gerudo, adopting their own laws and practices. Some of them even accepted voe into their ranks, treating them with the same respect as their vai—a ridiculous notion. But though she was not their chief, she was still the chieftain of the Gerudo people and, by extension, the desert. This was her land, even if many Gerudo chose not to acknowledge her rule.

And her land had, in its heart, a cancer that would destroy everything if something didn’t change.

So, completely defying what Buliara would have wanted her to do, Riju decided that she would at least try to understand it. She walked over to the small sled nearby and picked up Patricia’s reins, smiling down at her beautiful sand seal.

“Let’s see how bad this storm really is. Come on, Patricia!”

The sand seal broke into motion, pulling her down the sand dune with haste. Riju grinned and reached up, replacing her veil over her mouth as they sped towards the storm. She wouldn’t get too close today—she just wanted to see how bad it truly was. Their city had weathered plenty of storms in the past, and few of them caused any lasting damage. Perhaps this would be the same, if it came too close.

As they flew across the sands, she glanced back in the direction of Gerudo Town, but it had long since disappeared from view, hidden by countless sand dunes. Buliara probably realized that she’d snuck out by now. She might have even figured out where Riju was going—she was always far too good at figuring out what Riju was up to. No matter, though. Even if she sped towards Riju now, she could never hope to catch up—Patricia could outpace any other sand seal in the desert with ease.

She turned back forward, watching as the sandstorm grew in size—a towering column of swirling sand and deadly lightning. The wind had picked up, too. So far out from the sand wall? It didn’t bode well for the nomads, at the very least.

She continued through the dark desert, cold in the pre-dawn light. Her skirt flared out behind her, exposing her legs to the morning’s chill. As she approached, the wind’s strength continued to grow, whipping up sand that stung her arms and face.

Finally, she pulled Patricia to a halt, staring up at the sand wall with a grimace beneath her veil. Wind pulled at her braid and send sand flying in waves. Even Patricia seemed anxious, shifting her weight back and forth and looking around. Lightning forked down from within the sand storm, again briefly illuminating the incredible four-legged beast at its heart.

“This isn’t good, Patricia,” she said, stepping off the sled and walking up to stand beside her sand seal. She ran her fingers along the seal’s dorsal fin.

From her estimation, the nomads were right. The storm appeared terribly destructive—more so than any normal sandstorm in recent memory. The wind would be strong enough to rip up canvas tents and other structures not made permanent materials. The lightning would be worse, though. It flashed frequently, originating from somewhere around the Divine Beast and arcing down to the ground. The nomads carried stories of that lightning shattering stone.

Naboris wasn’t turned in the direction of Gerudo Town, which was a relief, but she feared that it could make that turn at any time. If it came to her home, with its terrible winds and lightning, then her people would be powerless to defend themselves. Without the Thunder Helm…

Biting her lip in anxiety—a nervous habit of hers that Buliara scolded her for every time that she saw it—Riju looked back towards Gerudo Town. It would be safe for now, but something had to be done. Naboris’ wandering would undoubtedly one day bring it towards the city. They needed to get the Thunder Helm back, find a way to get aboard the Divine Beast, and shut it down.

She sighed, flinching as a gust of wind sent grit into her face. She turned and went back to her sled, picking up Patricia’s reins. “Come on, Patricia. We’d better get home.”

She turned her sand seal and began back in the direction of Gerudo Town. She would need to meet with Captain Teake again and see if any progress had been made in the search for the thieves. Maybe the thieves left the desert, or perhaps they traveled west to the barrens. Maybe they were—

Something moved in the sands to her left.

Riju gasped as a camouflaged lizalfo suddenly burst from the sand, leaping into the air and flailing its rudimentary sword at the sand seal. Patricia barked in terror, swerving away from the lizalfo and yanking her reins free of Riju’s hands.

She only remained on the sled because of the cord that attached her to the sled at her waist, but she lost all control of her sand seal. Another lizalfo leaped out from behind cover, but Patricia moved too quickly now. Directly towards the sandstorm.

Riju desperately tried to grab the reins, yelling for the seal to slow down, but her voice was lost to the gusting wind and Patricia’s own terrified barks. The wind grew even stronger, and the morning light dimmed as sand filled the air.

The reins flapped through the air, just inches from her fingers. Riju stretched her arms, gritting her teeth as the sand blinded her. Her fingers touched the leather cord once, twice, but each time the cord whipped away before she could grasp it.

Please, Patricia, stop!

With a supreme effort, she leaned forward, her feet unsteady as the cord at her waist pulled both her and her sled forward. The reins brushed her fingertips, and she caught it between her index and middle finger. She grabbed the cord with her other hand. She pulled hard on the rein, and Patricia began to slow.

That’s it! That’s—

She didn’t even see the rock as it flew through the air. It struck her in the side of the head. Stars burst into Riju’s vision before everything went dark around her.

V

“I’m afraid that we need to accept the fact that he might be gone,” Impa said, looking around the table.

Purah was there, looking uncharacteristically solemn, as was Robbie. They were joined by Jerrin and Symin. Impa left Paya in Kakariko Village—the girl had been nearly inconsolable since Link disappeared.

The poor child—she had never known loss such as this. Her parents both died so young to the Telta plague. Perhaps Impa should have done more to prepare Paya for the pain of loss, but her hopefulness, despite the state of the world, brought such joy to Impa’s life. How could she snuff that out?

“We don’t know that!” Purah snapped. “If he was separated from his Sheikah Slate, then he wouldn’t be able to teleport back quickly. That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

Purah was another one that seemed capable of holding onto hope, despite evidence to the contrary. Perhaps it was because of her child body and the level of maturity that it seemed to have brought with it, or maybe it was because Purah had always been an optimist. She never had been willing to accept their fate.

“No, it doesn’t, but we must face the facts,” Robbie said, laying a hand on Purah’s shoulder. “We know he went to the castle—it’s where his Sheikah Slate was found. And we know that Calamity Ganon is growing in strength. Perhaps the boy made it out, but if so, why hasn’t he been found on the road or near the river?”

Robbie had been more of an optimist once, too, though age and experience had driven some of that from him. He understood regret, perhaps better than either of the other Sheikah elders.

Purah shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m not going to give up on him yet. We waited for a hundred years for him to return last time—why are we giving up on him now only after a couple weeks?”

“Because we may not have another hundred years to wait for him, Purah,” Impa said. “Ganon’s strength is growing. The signs are as clear now as they were one hundred years ago. Its armies are uniting as well, or have you forgotten about the monsters laying siege to your town?”

Purah wilted, looking down silently. Impa sighed. She had always been the realist between the two of them. Purah always looked to a hopeful future, while Impa buried herself in the often-despondent past.

“So, what do you suggest, Impa?” Robbie asked. “Link defeated three of the Divine Beasts. Do you think that will be enough?”

“Even one is more than we had when Ganon first rose. Perhaps three will be enough to weaken him. Make him vulnerable.”

“But who will defeat him? Without Link, we have no Champion.”

Impa snorted. “I have witnessed many heroes in my life other than that boy. Perhaps none of them will wield the Master Sword, but I would hazard a guess that there are many in this world that would be willing to fight to save this land.”

“And how are we going to find this hero?” Purah asked, her voice bitter. “If we have so little time, how are we supposed to search the land for someone willing to face Ganon?”

“We’ve found this hero, Purah,” Impa said. “We’ve found many. Or, I should say, Link did. All along his journey, he has found and worked alongside heroes and leaders of the different Hyrulean races. He managed to unite the Zora, Gorons, and Rito in their desire to see their lands return to peace. I believe that we can take that further—finish what Link started.”

“You mean to raise an army.” Robbie looked thoughtful, tapping his chin. “Yes, I see the logic behind that. An army consisting of Zora, Goron, Rito, Hylian, and Sheikah warriors. Backed by the Divine Beasts.”

“We would need weapons,” Impa said, meeting Robbie’s eyes. “And armor.”

“I have some already stockpiled—I have been salvaging as much material from the Guardians I have access to, but I’m going to need more.”

“I will set my people to salvaging from the Guardians in the Blatchery Plains. There are hundreds there.”

“Hmm, yes, that would be excellent. But if we have as little time as you fear, Impa, you must know that I won’t have enough time to make weapons and armor for an army.”

“No, but you could make enough to arm the primary fighting force. The ones that will clash with the Guardians at the beginning.”

“It’ll give them a chance.”

“Exactly.”

Purah watched their exchange, her expression still morose as it had been. Finally, she spoke up. “And what am I supposed to do? I can’t make a bunch of new Sheikah Slates for everybody.”

“No, but you have two in your possession now. With their ability to teleport groups, they will be invaluable in transporting equipment for Robbie.”

“There is something else that she might be able to help me with,” Robbie said. Both Purah and Impa looked at him, and Robbie leaned low, speaking conspiratorially. “The Sheikah Slates are the means by which we can interact with ancient Sheikah technology.”

“Yes, we know that,” Purah said, and then added, “Obviously.”

“I’ve been theorizing a way to take back control of the Guardians. As you well know, our control on them was tenuous, even before the Calamity struck. We never did fully know how to control all of them at once. It always felt as if we were missing an important piece to the puzzle. Something that hadn’t been discovered yet.”

“Snap, get to the point!”

Robbie scowled at Purah briefly but continued. “Impa, you still have the mural depicting the battle against Calamity ages ago, don’t you?”

Impa frowned. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“There was always something on that mural that stumped us. Something that we didn’t have one hundred years ago. Can you think of what it is?”

Impa thought for a time. She could picture the mural in her mind with perfect clarity—she had studied it for well over a hundred years, after all. She could see the two heroes in the center, on either side of the Calamity. She saw the Guardians surrounding them all. She saw the four Divine Beasts. And she saw…

She looked up, her eyes widening. “The towers.”

“The towers. Why were those on the mural? What purpose did they serve? Thus far, they appear to be doing nothing, but they must be important. When Link activated one, others rose throughout the land. One even appeared in the middle of the Citadel—it must have been buried in the mountain all along. Perhaps the mountain itself formed around it in the last ten thousand years.”

“Click, snap!” Purah slapped her hands on the table. “You think they’re control devices!”

“It’s merely a theory that I have been—”

“The Sheikah Slate mentions them in its code. I didn’t think anything of it when I saw it—I was working on Link’s runes at the time, but…”

Purah hopped off her stool, landing on the floor of her laboratory. She began to pace, snapping her fingers as she did so. “If the towers can control the Guardians, then they must act like antennae. Perhaps there are so many of them because they have a limited range, or the more of them are activated, the stronger their signal.”

“Hopefully we don’t need to activate each of them. That would take more time than I fear we have,” Impa said. “And several of them are in precarious positions, from my understanding.”

“Yeah, the one near Hateno is surrounded by an army of monsters.”

“And the one in Akkala still swarms with Guardians,” Robbie said. “But that is all beside the point right now. Purah, I need you to research this. Study the towers, if you can, and try to learn how to use them. Perhaps we can wrest control of the Guardians back away from Ganon.”

“Right. I…” She looked down at herself, thoughtfully. “Snap, I think I need to grow up some if I’m going to going back out into the field.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Symin said from his place nearby.

“I don’t have to put up with you, you know!” Purah snapped.

Impa found that she was smiling. Yes, this was good. Perhaps, even now, some hope remained. Please be alive, Link, she thought. Prove me wrong once again.

VI

“Tonight, I spent the evening in the company of Link. With Grandmother, of course. Already, he has freed three of the Divine Beasts. It is so incredible to think that so much has changed in a mere two months! And he seemed so much happier tonight than he’s been before. He smiled and laughed and asked questions of Grandmother about his past. He asked a lot of questions about Princess Zelda and their journey together. Grandmother said that they used to laugh together a lot together, and that it always gave her hope that they were able to smile, despite the dire circumstances that brought them together.

“I wonder if Link is in love with Princess Zelda... If so, I think they suit each other quite splendidly. If they became a couple, I'd give that pairing my full support. Though just the thought of that makes my heart hurt... Is this what it means to love? If so, it hurts far greater than I ever knew it would. Yet seeing him smile tonight made me feel so happy, even if the smiles weren’t for me.”

A tear dropped onto the page, smudging the ink, and Paya reached down with a trembling finger, trying to wipe the moisture away. It was no good, though—she just made it worse, leaving a smear that obscured several letters. Reaching up to her eyes, she wiped them quickly, yet it did little to stop the tears.

It hurts, she thought. It hurts so much.

She had written the entry the night of the Yiga attack. It was why she was still awake when they appeared—she hadn’t been able to sleep after writing it, the implications of her own admission swirling through her mind.

How little she had known. The pain she felt then was nothing compared to the pain of not knowing where he had gone. If he even still lived.

It was the last entry in her diary. Though she had tried to write again since that awful night, she just couldn’t get the words out any longer. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t write.

Two weeks. Two weeks, he had been gone. And a week ago, his Sheikah Slate had been returned, found at the bottom of a river outside of Hyrule Castle.

Paya drew her legs up to her chest and pressed her forehead to her knees, body shaking as the sobs overtook her once again. Her grandmother was still gone but would return soon, she knew. For now, however, she was alone, and she mourned.